Timer
by skygirl55
Summary: Timer: Counting Down To Your Soulmate; Castle mashup with the movie of the same name. Caskett.
1. Set: Season 3

_Soulmate Semi-AU; the canon Castle universe mashed with the universe presented in the movie Timer._

 _Each "chapter" is a one-shot that is unrelated to all the others save the fact that they all take place in the same fake mashed-up universe._

 _Cover art by Travis (lordofkavaka)_

* * *

 _A/N: This is what happens when I watch weird random movies on Netflix._

* * *

 **Set mid- to late- Season 3**

* * *

Standing in front of her CO, Kate Beckett folded her arms over her chest and huffed out a frustrated breath. She was making one last attempt at the eleventh hour—desperate to plead her case and win. The essence of being a lawyer surged through her blood and she channeled in that moment, hoping for a verdict in her favor. "Sir, this is absolutely completely ridiculous. How can this be mandated? It cannot be constitutional. It…goes against free will!"

Montgomery blinked at her, surprisingly patient since she'd been making the exact same argument to him nearly daily for the prior ten days—ever since the mandate had been announced. "Beckett, it's a Timer, not a mind control device."

"Might as well be." She muttered. It was a device implanted into her wrist—who knew what all the government was doing with it? God, now she was starting to sound like the writer; he was the one who generally had wild theories. Ironically, he had no issues with his Timer. He actually liked the concept. Of course _he_ would. She, on the other hand, loathed the mere thought. Counting down to the date she met her soulmate? Who even said there was such thing as a soulmate?

Montgomery stood from his desk, walked around and stood in front of her, speaking in a fatherly tone. "You realize this is meant to help you, right? This is actually a very nice thing they're doing for federal employees—giving them Timers free of charge."

"Feels more like manipulation." She scoffed. Yes, the inventors of the Timer were laughing all the way to the bank, weren't they? A hundred bucks for implantation plus a $9.99 per month "maintenance fee" for upkeep of their databases. It had seemed like a racket to her since the beginning. Well, since it was invented when she was seven years old. Over two decades later she still hadn't been won over. It all just seemed so…manipulative. Now, with the government officially supporting the device, the makers of the Timer were bound to profit even more.

Pursing his lips, the elder man asked, "Why are you so against this anyway? You realize over seventy percent of adults between eighteen and fifty have a Timer, right?"

"They send you that stat in the info packet." She snipped then instantly apologized at the flash of unhappiness in his eyes. "Sorry, sir. I just don't want my life dictated by something I can't control."

"I'm not knowing is better? Look, I'm not saying put your life on hold until the day your Timer clocks down to zero, but what about right now? Your boyfriend, Dr. Davidson—does he have a Timer?"

"Yes."

"And?"

With a sigh, she reluctantly confessed, "It's got about five years on it."

The man hummed and stroked his index finger and thumb over his mustache. "I see. So then you two will be together for, what? Four years and eleven months more?"

"That's not…I…that's not what we're about." She huffed out finally through her stammering. Josh was—mercifully—like her. He didn't care about the Timer. In fact, during their one and only discussion about the clock counting down on his wrist, he'd expressed regret at obtaining it at eighteen when he'd become caught up in the hype along with his friends. He had made his career and life without ever really thinking about it and had no plans to do so, even when the clock reduced to zero. If he happened to find her, fine, but if she didn't fit into his preexisting life, then the Timer was wrong and he seemed indifferent to the outcome. That was one of the reasons she liked him; he was living for the moment, just like she was.

Montgomery hummed and stroked his mustache again. "I see. Well what about this Beckett? Say you get your Timer and it has…oh, let's say two months on it. Two months. Two months and then you meet the man who'll make you happy for the rest of your life. Isn't that worth it?" He smiled, presumably expecting a happy expression from her—or, at the very least, a neutral one. When he saw nothing but a scowl on her face, he shrugged. "Well, you don't have a choice. They'll be ready for you and Karpowski any minute now."

* * *

Leaving Montgomery's office felt like walking the green mile. Kate couldn't decide what would be worse: if her Timer showed nothing or if it counted down to a time that was sooner than later, as Montgomery had proposed. How could she stumble upon someone and be expected to love them unconditionally without even knowing who they were? Granted, meeting one's Timer-mate did not make marriage an instantaneous requirement; relationships could still progress at whatever rate the two mates saw fit, but what if her Timer-mate was someone she didn't like?

Kate had heard stories—some so terrible she chose to believe were merely rumor or, at least, extreme exaggerations of the truth. Personally, she had only experienced one negative Timer-match. Her senior year of high school a girl who had her Timer just a few days was matched with the biggest bully in the junior class. When their Timers went off, he'd called her ugly and walked away cursing. She spent the next few days crying while he called her every fowl thing he could think of until guidance counselors intervened. She had never been friends with either of them so after high school they lost touch for the better part of a decade until Maddy had mentioned them. Evidently, they married, had two children, and seemed happy, but Kate was still unsettled knowing how tragically their alleged romance began.

What if she was destined to the same fate? What if her Timer-mate was cruel or cold? What if he didn't have patience for her career driven life? What if he didn't make her happy?

According to the makers of Timer, this was impossible. The device worked on hormones and pheromones permeating a person's skin and thus it would be impossible to be matched with someone who could not make you happy, but Kate still wasn't convinced.

Of course, the exact opposite scenario was equally plausible. Since she was acquiring her Timer so late in life, it was possible she had already met the man she was destined to be with. It could have been anyone: a doctor or nurse, a grocery store checkout clerk, one of her father's coworkers she'd met while going to his office to meet him for lunch. Then the problem would be finding them again. She had thirty-plus years of meeting people; that equated to a large sum of people.

Crossing through the bullpen from Montgomery's office to the break room where the Timer representatives were set up, Kate felt as though every eye was watching her. That was, of course, somewhat irrational. Her team was watching her, because they knew what was going on, but only a small fraction of the others did. Nearly all already had Timers and thus did not need to worry about the mandate. She and Karpowski were the only ones without in the Homicide division; men and women from other departments rounded out the seven that would be receiving their Timer that day. That was Kate's only saving grace—at least she wasn't the only one without one.

Kate glanced at each member of her team as she passed by. Ryan's Timer had zeroed out a few years earlier when he'd met his now-fiancé Jenny. Esposito's clock had just over a year on it, but he didn't seem too concerned with it. And Castle's timer was blank. According to the literature (which she read begrudgingly after the mandate was handed down) a blank Timer meant one of two things: either Castle's mate had not yet received her Timer or she had died.

For the writer's sake, she hoped the second scenario was not his destiny. She didn't like Timers and wasn't sure if she believed in soulmates, but on the off chance they were real, she did not want to condemn such a kind and generous man to a life without one. She hoped instead that his mate merely had not been Timered yet. Perhaps she was much younger than him—or much older. Perhaps she lived in a foreign country. Perhaps she—

Oh. Perhaps _she_ was Rick's Timer-mate. It was possible, of course, as she fell into the category of a woman without a timer, but—no. No! That was ridiculous—absurd. She and Castle were not soulmates—assuming soulmates existed. As much as he made her smile, he drove her insane. They had completely different backgrounds and—no. She would not waste any more time on the thought; her situation was preposterous enough.

As she walked by him, Castle offered her a reassuring smile. "It's going to be fine, Beckett; you'll see."

Kate could go nothing but grumble in response.

* * *

"You know she hates this, right?" Esposito said wisely to the writer after the female detective had entered the break room and slammed the door a bit harder than necessary behind her.

" _Obviously_ ," Castle said with great emphasis. She had been nearly spitting fire in his direction—and, well, every direction—for over a week because of it. The littlest things set her into a tailspin of hate, like two days earlier when he'd accidentally stepped on the back of her shoe; he'd thought she was going to rip him limb from limb. Despite this, he maintained his jovial attitude. "But she doesn't have a choice s I'm trying to be positive—like usual." He finished with a grin.

Ryan craned his neck in an attempt to see through the slats in the blinds pulled down over the breakroom's glass door. "Man she's going to be even worse after this, isn't she?"

"You mean if her clock is blank like Castle's?" Espo asked.

"Or if it's counting down to her fiftieth birthday." Ryan continued. "I don't see a scenario in which we get away with her having a good attitude about this."

Castle clicked his tongue in disapproval of his colleagues. "Guys c'mon—give her a little more credit than that. I don't deny that she might be salty for a few days, but she'll come around; I know she will." Would Beckett be sullen and moody for several days or upwards of a week after her Timer was implanted? Absolutely. But she would get over it; he knew that for a fact. He was not delusional enough to think she'd be happy about it, but he had his hopes set on not-furious-about it. If she reached that point, he'd consider it a success. Besides, he knew once she found her Timer-mate she'd be fine. If hers ended up being blank like his…well, then maybe they were in for a little longer than a week of Sullen Beckett.

"But seriously, guys I'm sure that—Oh." He interrupted his thought when his cell phone rang. Dipping his hand into his pocket he found the face of his daughter reflecting up at him from the caller ID screen. "Sorry it's Alexis; excuse me." With that, he ducked off to the adjoining hallway to take the call in a quieter area.

* * *

"Unbelievable. Un-freakin-believable." Kate muttered as she returned to her desk after having the stupid—and painful!—Timer implanted onto her right wrist. She should have known it would have been horrible and completely pointless! How could it be anything else!?

Before she could slip too deeply into her cone of fury, two tentative looking men appeared beside her desk. The bolder Esposito asked, "So…how'd it go?"

Practically spitting through her teeth, she thrust her right arm in their direction. "Look!"

Both men peered down at her wrist, looked at each other, and then looked back at her. "What do zeroes mean?" Ryan asked, his tone beginning to resemble that of the ones they were trained to use to talk people off ledges.

"It means I already met the guy—or so they," she said, gesturing wildly towards the break room, "say."

Ryan bobbed his head "So…he definitely has a Timer, but you've already met? When? As an adult?"

She shrugged and violently shoved a pen across the surface of her desk. "Oh no-it could be any time; any time at all. That's what they told me, anyway."

Actually, in his irritatingly cheerful tone the Timer representative had said, "It makes sense since you're very old to be getting a Timer." Kate had nearly pulled out her service piece.

"So…this happens often then?" Esposito asked.

Kate pressed her lips together tightly. She had inquired similarly and again, the Timer rep's answer had been too cheerful. "Oh no," he had said, "it happens, but not usually since Timers are generally implanted by the age of twenty-one."

"No, I'm just special." The detective snipped.

"Oh."

Trying to emulate their more positive fourth team member, Ryan suggested, "Maybe that's okay—maybe it's someone you already know and like."

"Maybe it's someone I bumped into on the subway when I was eighteen." She replied, mocking. "Only now he's living in Europe I have no hopes of running across him. Oh! But if I do! This stupid, ridiculous hunk of metal jammed into my skin will go off and won't I be lucky—whenever the hell that is."

Absurd. The Timer was absurd enough when it was meant to count down to a specific day. Then, one would navigate the world that day with bated breath (or so the movies portrayed) until that moment—the precise moment—you locked eyes with your Timer-mate and both Timers went off. But what would happen to her? Was she just supposed to make random eye contact with every male she passed on the streets or in the subway on the off chance her Timer went off? She was a New Yorker; she didn't make eye-contact on the subway!

Endlessly furious, Kate snatched her coffee mug off her desk and pushed her chair in so violently that the arm clattered against the side of the desk and made an obnoxious sound.

"What are you doing?" Espo asked.

She held the cup up over her head as she charged back to the breakroom. "What do you think!"

* * *

"Hope she makes it decaf." Ryan commented with a cringe.

"Hope who what?" the writer asked as he stepped up to them, pocketing his phone.

Ryan shook off the question before asking, "Everything okay with Alexis?"

The writer nodded. "Oh, yeah fine—she was just letting me know that she was going to a friend's after school. So what's the verdict on Beckett?"

"Her timer is blank."

Castle blinked. "Like mine?"

"No, he meant zeroed out; she's already met the guy." Esposito explained.

"When?"

"She doesn't know."

The writer hummed. Well, he was certainly glad Kate had not faced the same fate as he; going through life with a blank timer. Every time he thought about it—which was probably more often than he should have—he came to the conclusion that having a blank Timer was far worse than having a Timer that counted down to a date decades in the future. At least that type of Timer had a purpose; a sense of closure even if it was far off. With a blank timer he had absolutely nothing.

Of course, the author in him enjoyed musing dramatic and romantic scenarios. Like one morning when he checked his wrist as he often did it would no longer be blank, but be counting down just a day or two. Then, he'd find her and she would have a fantastic story for the reason why she had not yet been Timered and from that point on they'd be happy together. However, such thoughts were just a fantasy. The older he got, the more he came to accept the possibility that his Timer-mate had passed away from illness or an accident. But that would be okay; it did not condemn him to a life of loneliness. He was happy then and he would continue to find happiness in whatever hand life dealt him.

Thinking about the detective again, Castle decided he would happily switch placed with her if presented the opportunity. Not that he wished her a life without her soulmate—quite the opposite—but he would have very much enjoyed a zeroed out Timer if for no other reason than the delightful possibilities it brought.

"Wow…the possibilities would be endless, wouldn't they? Thirty-some years of meeting people…"

Espo scoffed. "Don't tell her that."

As the scenarios spun through his mind, the writer grinned. "But think about it—she could have met him in school. Maybe he's her barista or—oh! Maybe through a case! Maybe she arrested him!"

An expression of utmost offence crossed Esposito's face. "Dude."

Realizing how his comment may have been interpreted, the writer shook his head. "No, no—obviously I don't want her mate to be a murderer. I meant like back in the day when she was a rookie. Maybe she arrested him for petty theft and that incident made him turn his life around. Maybe now he runs a shelter for at-risk youth. Wouldn't that be a great story?!"

It would—it would be a fantastic story; one he would happily incorporate into his next novel. Better yet—it could _be_ his next novel, if he could get Gina on board with it, which he probably could…well, maybe not in light of breakup number—what was it for them? Four or five probably. But, no, he'd be able to wear her down.

"Somehow I don't think Beckett would agree." Ryan pointed out.

"She might."

As if she'd known her presence was needed, Castle heard her footsteps approaching from behind. Perfect! Turning around, he said, "Hey Beckett—I was just telling the boys wouldn't it be funny if-"

* * *

A stringent beeping noise not unlike those of cheap hotel alarm clocks immediately filled the precinct bullpen. Two identical alarms went off, but they were not musically in sync, making the sound even more obnoxious. It started Kate so much that she jumped and some of the coffee in her mug sloshed out onto the floor. It took her around five seconds to realize that the source of the beeping was actually her wrist—or, rather, the chip implanted there not five minutes earlier. It had gone off the moment she locked eyes with Castle.

 _Castle_.

Oh, god, Castle. There he was standing in front of her looking half stunned as well. Eyes wide with no small amount of shock, Kate gazed down at her wrist and saw that the display was no longer a metallic silver color with nine zeros. Instead, it had turned green and was displaying 03.09.09—the date she met Richard Castle.

 _Oh god_.

She had never though—well, she had thought, but never believed that Castle—Oh, Castle.

"Kate?" His tentative, barely-there voice pulled her from her internal thoughts. She maintained just enough mental capacity to place her coffee mug down on the desk before turning back to him, slack-jawed. Was this happening? Was this really happening? She'd had been seething, ready to throw vitriol at him simply for existing and being cheerful when all she wanted to do was hate everything about the Timer but now— _now_ …

"Well," Ryan said, stepping up beside Castle and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Look on the bright side—you were right; Beckett's match is someone she arrested."

"Thanks Kevin." The writer returned in the most ungrateful tone she'd heard from him.

Ryan squeezed his shoulder. "No problem man. Oh, actually, you know what? We have to go. We have that thing, don't we Javi?"

"Oh yeah we definitely have a thing." The other detective agreed before the duo scurried off towards the opposite end of the bullpen where they could observe from a safe distance.

After they left, Kate continued to stare at the writer, who appeared to be, for perhaps the very first time in his life, rendered speechless. In any other situation, this would have amused her and she would have easily teased him about it. However, in that moment, she couldn't think of anything to say—not one single word.

"Oh, Beckett; there you are. I see the Timer men getting into the elevator so…I…" Montgomery's voice drifted off as he stepped up beside the ashen-faced duo. He gazed at them and then down at the female's exposed wrist and chuckled. With it displaying green, there was no question as to what had just occurred. "Oh. Well. I see this worked out a bit better than expected. Congratulations!" he said, squeezing Castle's shoulder.

"Ah…thanks…" The writer responded distantly just a moment before the captain walked away. Ten seconds passed before he began with, "We should, uh," he cleared his throat when his voice squeaked, "probably talk somewhere more private."

"I…" Kate managed but no other thoughts came out. Her mind was too consumed with thinking about how the day had begun. She had awoken and been convinced she would be able to talk her way out of getting a Timer. She had pushed herself from bed and—

 _Fuck._ She had said goodbye to Josh. Her boyfriend, Josh. The man she had been with for several months, Josh. Not the man who was represented by the cheerfully green six digits on her Timer.

Oh god.

Castle was her mate—her soulmate. This concept was…surprising, yes. Disappointing? No. No? No. He was her partner. He was her friend. He was a man she trusted. He was loyal and kind and when he smiled he made her feel like everything was all right in the world, even if it wasn't.

And, god, she should have known, shouldn't she? By the way he made her feel, the way he could make her laugh like no one else could. The way she looked forward to seeing him every day, and felt incomplete on the days she didn't communicate with him at all, rare as they were. As much as he drove her to the absolute brink sometimes, he was her favorite person in the world and the one she knew she could call on questions asked and they would…dive in together, just like she had always wanted.

"Beckett?"

She took a step back from him, her chest constricting with a barrage of emotions, fear and guilt ranking high among them. This wasn't right. She couldn't handle this—not in that moment, anyway. "I, um, I need to…" She muttered out, snatching up her blazer from the back of her desk chair and continuing to back away from him.

"Kate?"

She shook off his confusion with a quick, "I'll call you later," before hurrying towards the elevator without looking back.

* * *

Sitting in his office, glass of scotch on the desk beside him, Castle traced his left thumb around the outer edges of the timer now displaying 03.09.09 in green. For over two decades it had displayed only dashes and, despite his eternal optimism, he had genuinely wondered if that would ever change. He certainly never anticipated it happening like this.

Kate Beckett was his soulmate. The woman he had shadowed, admired, and, yes, fallen in love with over the years was the one he was meant to be with for the rest of his life. Such a prospect should have caused great happiness and he would have been overjoyed were it not for her reaction. Then again, as it was very Kate-Beckett-like he should have expected it.

Despite the Timer being at the forefront of his mind frequently, they had not had more than a few conversations about it. In fact, due to the fact that she almost always had her father's watch on, he didn't even know she lacked a Timer until she stayed at the loft after her apartment blew up. He always found it odd that she, as a right-handed person, wore her watch on her right wrist, but when he found her making eggs one morning in a short-sleeved shirt sans watch, he was shocked to see skin where the metal implant should have been. It was then she explained that she didn't like the Timer, didn't believe in it, and covered her wrist with the watch to avoid questions such as the ones he was peppering her with.

Naturally, he could not simply drop the subject. The two subsequent times he brought up Timers—in general, not relating to her lack of one—she had shut him down rather quickly by insisting that she would never get one and did not wish to discuss it. He had always been impossibly curious as to why and hoped now that their Timers matched he would have the opportunity to find out.

That was assuming she ever spoke to him again.

Well, okay, perhaps he was being dramatic. She had not been angry, but stunned and he could understand that. He was surprised, certainly, but not stunned. In fact, he'd known they were mean to be together for quite some time.

The closer they became and the longer they worked together, the more Richard Castle became infatuated with Kate Beckett. Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes sparkled—everything about her intoxicated him. Add on top of that the fact that she was an extraordinary human and he was practically head over heels without trying. Sure, they'd had their ups and downs and certainly moments when he thought they didn't have a future, but when they kissed? Oh, when they kissed; that was when he knew for certain: his life would never be the same again.

For perhaps the first time he was not even thinking about his future in terms of the Timer; he simply thought about his future when it came to chilly winter nights in front of a roaring fire or summer beachside strolls in the Hamptons. In both scenarios—in _all_ scenarios—shew as there; they were together and, as far as he was concerned, that was how they were meant to live their lives. Convincing her of that…well, that was a different story—one he had not yet worked the kinks out of, but now he hoped he wouldn't have to.

Taking a pull from his glass of scotch, Castle briefly considered a post-dinner snack, but was almost instantly interrupted by a knock at his apartment door. Abandoning the liquor, he padded his way out into the living area, across the foyer, and to the front door where a sheepish looking woman stood, her hands fisting the exposed edges of her coat.

"Hi."

"Hi." He echoed. Offering a smile, she stepped aside and let her into the apartment. Well, this was already more promising than a theoretical snack.

She shrugged off her coat and he hung it up for her before following her deeper into the apartment where she tugged at the hem of her sweater and gazed over at him, remorseful. "Sorry about earlier; I shouldn't have just run off."

He bobbed his head. "You were surprised; I understand."

A breathy laugh escaped her lips. "Surprised…yeah, you could say I was surprised. It was just…I was so angry—angry that I had to get a Timer at all, angry that it showed up zeros instead of a countdown like most people had. Angry that I had been forced to face the ramification of a decision that someone made for me—a decision I never would have made otherwise."

"Can I…I mean, may I ask why you're so against the Timer? You never really told me."

"Oh." She hummed and walked over to the couch. Tucking one leg beneath her she sat and waited for him to join her before continuing. "Because of my mom. Because if I didn't have Timer, it couldn't tell me I had to be in love when I wasn't ready. I knew what being alone was like—protecting my heart. I was good at it. Relationships? I'm definitely no good at those. How could I be with one foot out the door?"

Castle skimmed his hand over his chin as he considered her words. Finally, her relationships with men like Doctor Motorcycle Boy and Demming made sense. Those men weren't right for her, but yet she stayed with them purposely because she never had any intentions of building a real relationship with them, or anyone. But…what about the two of them? In some ways, their work partnership was more intimate than some romantic relationships he'd had and surely that had to count for something. "You know, partnerships aren't all that different than relationships."

She hummed. "That so?"

He grinned at her. "Absolutely. They're almost identical. Well, except for the kissing."

A chuckle escaped her lips, but then she fell silent for several moments. After tucking her hair back behind her ears she looked up at him, curious. "I'm sorry, we've been kind of making this all about me—how do you feel about this?"

Castle had to fight to keep himself from jumping off the couch. How did he feel about this? How did _he_ feel about this?! Trying his best to not terrify her he blurted out, "Me? I'm thrilled!"

Instead of shying away, her eyes brightened and lips curled into a subtle smile. "Really?"

He nodded and softened his tone. "How could I not be? You're…extraordinary." When she blushed and looked down towards her lap, he slid a bit closer to her on the sofa. He needed her to know that while he was overjoyed and ready to dive right in, he understood that she probably was not and he would be patient for as long as she needed. "I've known that from the start and I…I'm very happy about this. I promise I won't rush you, though. I know you need time. You're with someone else and-"

"No." She interjected quickly. "I ended things with Josh this afternoon."

"Oh. Oh!" The writer's eyes flared with realization. "Is that where you went?" Well that certainly explained her several hour departure.

"There. And to clear my head. I guess I…" She took in a deep breath and clasped her hands together.  
"I kind of half expected mine to have a lot of time on it. Like this one girl I knew from college—hers had thousands of days on it when I first met her. I think it counted down to when she was in her mid-forties or something and I always thought: what a sad fate."

"Why? She would still get her happy ending." He responded. When her brow wrinkled slightly, he continued with, "I mean I get what you're saying. Waiting for several decades to get your happily ever after would be disappointing, but I'm just playing a bit of devil's advocate. Besides…look when mine would have counted down to." He concluded with a shrug as he was presently in his forties.

"Thirty eight. Goes by the day we met, remember?"

He shrugged again. "Still."

She picked at a stray thread at the seam of her jeans by her knee. "So…does that mean you wish we'd met sooner?"

He shook his head, confident in his answer. "No." When she gazed up tentatively, he continued with, "It wouldn't have been our time. Things happen for a reason." Feeling bold, he reached over and gently placed his hand upon her knee, bracing himself for her to push him away, but she never did. Instead, she placed her hand atop his and traced over his knuckled with the pads of her fingers.

"So what now?"

He grinned. "Whatever you want. We can go out for dessert, go to a movie, sit here and stare at each other…"

She laughed. "Um, I don't know about staring at each other. Maybe we could watch some TV?"

He nodded and jumped up to grab the remote. Returning to the couch, he turned on the TV to find that it was tuned to ESPN which was playing a basketball game. He checked with her to make sure it was all right before sitting back down He kept a half-cushion barrier between them, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, but she slid closer so that their arms nearly touched.

They watched the game in silence for the better part of fifteen minutes before she said quietly, "I don't want to get married for a while."

Castle gazed over at her, slack-jawed. Was she…did she…had she just… Oh! This was far better than he expected. Fighting the urge to dance with joy, he muted the game on the television and turned his body to face hers. "Okay."

"I mean years." She clarified.

He shrugged. "That's fine."

"And I don't want kids right away, either."

On this point, he thought a moment. Having children with Kate Beckett was certainly crossing into "wildest dreams" territory, but he certainly wasn't opposed to it. However, he did wish to have them while he was still young enough to play and run around with them—and handle one-a.m. feedings. "Can we at least have them before I'm fifty?"

She blinked. "That's in nine years."

He nodded. "I know, but I wasn't sure what timeline you had in mind…" She had said years, which could potentially mean three or four of each scenario and what if they wanted more than one child?

With a slight eye roll she said. "We'll have kids before you're fifty, Castle."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No I think that's it for now—I'll let you know." She added with a smile.

His expression matched hers. "Okay. And Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't wait."

* * *

 _A/n: I really struggled to choose when in the Castle universe I wanted to set this story. I started with 3 outlines. I might end up writing one more or both of them. :)_


	2. Set: Season 4

**A/N: This chapter has the same set up - canon Castle universe to this point, mashed with the same Timer movie, but it is independent of Part 1**

 **Set Season 4, After Undead Again**

* * *

"So," Castle began, grazing his thumb over the metallic implant in his wrist displaying nine black dashes, "What'dya think she'll have? Days? Months? A decade?"

"Zeros." Esposito proclaimed. Ryan nodded in agreement.

The writer's brow wrinkled. "Really? You think zeroes?"

"Seems likely." Espo continued. "I mean, she's in her mid-thirties; look how many people she's already met."

"Look how many people she hasn't." He counter-argued. Mostly, he did so only to distract himself from his thundering heart. He had watched Kate disappear into the break room not a minute earlier and immediately felt as though he was going to be sick. As long as she didn't have a Timer—as long as the possibility was still out there—he could be happy—satisfied. But now…now everything was about to change.

When Gates announced the prior week that all department employees were "strongly encouraged" to obtain a Timer he had expected the detective to explode with injustice, argue and possibly even shout, but she had done none of those things; she had been completely silent on the subject which, arguably was worse, because it meant she was not just angry, but upset and trying to hide it. He tried to talk to her about it—be the supportive partner he always intended to be—but she remained tightlipped. She hadn't been snippy or pushed him away, but politely requested they not speak about it, so he dropped the subject as much as it pained him.

During their four year partnership they had really only had a handful of Timer-related discussions. Of course, like a fool, he'd asked her about her vacant right wrist quite early on in their partnership and received a snippy, "I don't ask about your body parts so don't ask about mine," in response. He'd dropped the subject for a few months until the Timer subject was broached again—that time because of a case. After discovering the motive for murder was, in fact, an incident of Timer jealousy, the writer asked her again, and that time she simply stated, "I don't have a Timer because I don't want one."

Almost another year passed until he shared his rather sad Timer tale. As an optimistic youth, he'd obtained one on his eighteenth birthday and been slightly disappointed that it displayed only dashes, but not completely deterred as many his age and younger (translation: potential future wives) did not yet have their timers. Several years later he met Meredith, his daughter's mother. She was Timer-free due to a lack of funds, but he happily offered to pay for hers, hoping his digits would turn from dashes to a date. They did not and it was certainly one of the reasons his relationship with Meredith ultimately dissolved.

Years later, he married Gina whose Timer was also filled with nine black lines. Her tale was even sadder, for her mate had died in a snowmobiling accident just a few weeks after they'd matched. She didn't talk about it much, and he couldn't blame her, but Castle often suspected that Gina might not have been as cold as she was were it not for that event.

Thus, despite it being affixed to his wrist for over two decades, Castle's timer remained blank. He did not like to think about the possibility that his Timer-mate had the same fate as Gina's—without him having the pleasure of meeting her first. He preferred to believe that she just had not received her Timer yet. The closer he became to the lovely detective, the more convinced he was of the fact that his Timer was blank because Kate Beckett's right wrist was naked.

For four years they'd grown closer as partners then friends and then…well, he wasn't sure what they were at that precise moment, but it was more than friends. Given their conversation about her work in therapy the week prior, he liked to think it was all but touching the edge of a real, romantic relationship, but they weren't there yet—not quite. But, God, he wanted it—he wanted her. He wanted her more than ever.

He had fallen in love with her time and time again over the course of their partnership. Even when earlier that year he had, for a brief period of time, thought she did not reciprocate those feelings, he never fell out of love with her and only pushed her away in a futile attempt to save himself the pain. That was behind them now, though, because he understood—or thought he understood—that she felt the same.

With all their ups and downs, false starts and maybes, boyfriends, girlfriends, and even a gunshot wound, Castle knew—he knew in his gut—there were larger forces at work when it came to their relationship. The status of the Timer on his wrist only served as an object to confirm those feelings.

Presuming that his dash-filled Timer would be filled with zeros once Kate's Time was implanted was, of course, a far from scientific deduction. In fact, scientist would have been angry with him for making such a leap, but Castle didn't care. In his gut, he knew they were meant for each other. That's why he'd waited for her to be in the right headspace. He hadn't pushed or pressed. He wanted her to be ready in her own time because when she was their relationship would be…well, _epic._

When, two days earlier, Kate had quietly said to him, "I'm going to get the Timer," Castle's world had flipped upside-down. Though part of him was thrilled that they could finally embark on their relationship together, he—to his own surprise—found himself clutched with fear; clutched with uncertainty. Until that moment, he had not waivered. Even when he was mad at her he was upset _because_ he thought they were meant for each other, not because his mind had changed. But suddenly with a forty-eight hour window closing in on him fast all kinds of terrible scenarios filtered through his mind.

What if they weren't soulmates? What if too much had happened to them for them to have a happy ever after? What if there was a man out there in the world capable of making Kate happier than he?

That was what he wanted: for Kate to be her happiest; for her to have the best possible life. He believed he could give her that happiness, that life, but if someone else existed he would walk away. It would break his heart to do so, but he would.

The next day when Gates delivered the Timer paperwork to her (she was one of only three department employees that needed a Timer; the rest already had theirs) Kate had quietly confessed to him, "I still don't want one, but I don't think I have much of a choice, so maybe it's time."

The way she had looked at him after she said those words made his heart soar and restored his faith. She was tentative, perhaps even a little bit scared about the prospect, but there was a flicker of hope in her eyes and he grabbed on to it. It was time—their time—and, as her partner, he would be by her side for every second of it.

That morning, however, his nerves returned and when he arrived at the precinct with her vanilla latte, he did not reveal that his cup contained mint tea instead of his usual double-shot in the hopes of calming his rolling stomach. In his heart of hearts he knew—hell, it seemed even the boys knew with their guess that Beckett's clock would display zeros after being implanted—but he wouldn't be certain until the Timer was on her wrist and they had locked eyes.

"What do you think she's doing in there? I mean, it only takes a few seconds to get the Timer put on."

Castle glanced over at the men curiously staring towards the breakroom where the Timer representatives had set up their equipment. Both their right wrists displayed six digits dates. For Ryan, he had found his match in Jenny, whom he'd married earlier that year. Esposito's Timer had gone off just a few weeks after the wedding. Unfortunately, his match was presently married to another man with whom she shared a child so their relationship was complicated at the moment to say the least. Still, that had confirmed matches, which made the writer the slightest bit jealous.

"Maybe her Timer is showing thousands of days—counting down to when she's fifty or something."

Castle clicked his tongue at the smaller of the two detective men, the one he usually called an ally. "Why would you say that?"

Ryan shrugged. "Just guessing. It's probably zero, though. Maybe she's asking for it to be taken out already."

"Maybe." Just then his phone chirped signaling the arrival of a text message and, while still craning his neck towards the break room trying to catch a glimpse of the detective, he pulled the phone from his pocket. Looking at the display screen, Castle was surprised to find a message from his partner that simply said, _meet me in the stairwell asap._

Immediately, his heart stuttered in his chest. In the stairwell? They did not typically have clandestine meetings in the stairwell, but they had been known to slip there to chat now and again when they needed privacy. Oh god—is that what Beckett needed? Privacy to deliver the news that her countdown clock was ticking down to a future date meaning that he was not her match? Or had her clock displayed to zero and thus, thinking he was her mate, she wanted them to have their moment alone? Unable to suppress his curiosity, he hurried off towards the destination of their meet.

* * *

Stepping into the stairwell, Castle parted his lips to quietly call out for the detective, but there was no need. She stood just a few feet from him facing the stairs leading up to the floor above. Her posture was hunched and he suspected her arms were folded over her chest. As he was unable to see her face, he could not begin to guess what her Timer displayed so he said her name softly in an attempt to coax her into turning around.

"Oh, um, thanks for coming," she said, still refusing to look at him, so he could only judge by her tone, which sounded slightly rattled, but not off par with what she had just experienced.

"Of course; we're partners." He tried to keep the mood light, but his heart was hammering so hard against his rib cage he feared an internal bruise, so he could not participate in much more small talk. "How'd it go?"

"Fine. Didn't hurt as much as I thought it would."

"Oh. Beckett?"

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you looking at me?" he asked when she had yet to rotate even a few degrees in his direction.

Her voice just barely audible she said, "You know why."

Castle's breath caught in his chest and his heart stuttered over two beats. If she refused to look at him, it was because she refused to meet his eye—the trigger for a Timer going off, assuming one met the eye of their mate. That meant that her Timer did not display a time in the future as he feared. Nor did she have the misfortune of a Timer with dashes, like him.

"I'd like you to tell me. Please." They had spent the better part of their relationship avoiding talking about their feelings—particularly in relationship to each other. Now they had finally reached the point where enough was enough and they needed to start verbalizing—particularly if they were embarking on a real relationship.

"Because...no matter the outcome, the next time we look at each other everything's going to change."

He understood her implication. If they met eyes and their Timers did not go off, he would be stunned—and devastated. He hoped it would not terminate their working relationship—and it wouldn't immediately—but he knew they would eventually drift apart since part of the reason they remained together was their spark. If, however, their Timers went off it would be the point of no return. They would have confirmation of their soulmate status and, as most mates did, would become a couple. Of course, that was far from a mandate—Esposito was a prime example of that—but societal pressure would be there.

"It doesn't have to." He pointed out. If they matched and she wanted some more time to be ready for their relationships then he would wait for her.

"But it will."

With a deep inhale of breath, Castle decided to voice some of his internal thoughts aloud in hopes of encouraging her to turn around. "I think we're past the point of dancing around the subject we've been dancing around for almost a year now—probably even longer. You have to know by now that I want to be with you, but that doesn't have to mean this very second. Our match doesn't have to change what we have now until you're ready."

"And if we don't match?" she questioned, her voice a tear-filled whisper.

"Do you really think that's the case?" he returned as he felt the emotions begin to clog his own throat.

He watched her shake her head gently and lift her hands up to skim over the side of her face. "I thought I would be okay with whatever the Timer said, but now, standing in front of it, I'm scared."

The writer's heart ached from her atypical confession. Unable to remain so far apart from her, he took two steps closer and reached out a hand, dusting his fingertips over her scapula; he felt her shiver beneath his touch. "You're not alone, Kate. I'll always be here for you; that'll never change."

"But," she began, sniffing back some tears, "maybe it should. Maybe I...I want to get out of this holding pattern before the fuel runs out."

His hand slipped away from her back as he tried to process her bizarre statement. "What?"

"Lanie...she said we're in a holding pattern, circling until we run out of fuel and...drop from the sky."

The writer grumbled and made a mental note to have a talk with the ME at a later date. "That's ridiculous. We're not running out of fuel. We're like Air Force One-we can be refueled midflight!"

* * *

Despite the serious moment, Kate chuckled. She wanted to agree with him, particularly since she'd taken issue with Lanie's other comment from their girls' night—that she and Castle did not have a friendship. They did have one; one that was very dear to her. One that enabled her to fall for him, and trust him and, yes, be ready for more with him.

Castle was, without question, the person she thought of foremost in the world. He comforted her, he brought her joy, and she trusted him more than anyone else in the world. She loved him, and though she had struggled to accept that love—and accept the fact that he loved her—she had finally done so. The road for them had been hard and certainly not without its potholes, but they would be better for it; of that she was certain.

Unable to shy away from his touch any longer, yet still not ready for _the moment_ , Kate turned towards her companion, keeping her chin tight to her chest to avoid accidental eye contact, and reached out her arms towards his. He met her half way, extending his arms until his hands settled beneath her elbows and hers brushed against his biceps.

Kate smoothed her fingers over the creases in his shirt. It was blue; she loved him in blue. Taking a half step towards him, she skimmed her hands a bit higher, feeling his strong biceps beneath the fabric and hoping someday soon there would be nothing between them and she could feel his strong arms around her back, their skin pressing together.

Surrendering completely, she tucked her head beneath his chin and folded herself against him, leaving her hands to skim against his arms. She heard him breathe out and felt his chin against the top of her head and shut her eyes. This was what she'd dreamed of for so long, but yet it was still hard to believe it was within her grasp.

Trailing her left hand down across his right arm, she skimmed her way to his forearm where he bent his elbow making it easier for their hands to meet and fingertips to interlace. Feeling his strong broad hand against hers, Kate cracked a small smile. Their hands were so different in size that her fingers really needed to spread to interlace with his. Thinking it would be an amusing sight, she cracked open one eye, but gasped almost immediately at what she saw. Yes, their hand sizes were different, but the position of his arm caused his shirt sleeve to pull down and expose part of his Timer. She could not see the entire display, but what she could view made her stomach flip.

"Oh Castle." She exhaled. Pulling from his embrace to grasp his forearm with her right hand, she tugged the sleeve of his shirt up enough to view the Timer in full. On instinct, she almost looked up at him, but realized her error in time and kept her chin against her chest while asking, "When was the last time you looked at your Timer?"

"Ah...I don't know. Ten minutes ago? When you went in to get yours. Why?"

"Was it still dashes?"

"Yeah."

Her heart fluttered and she blinked, just in case the nine zeroes were a mirage. "Now it's not."

"Wha..." He half-gasped and pulled his arm from her grasp so he could properly see the display. For thirty seconds he was silent, but then he asked, "Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"What does your Timer display?"

"Nine zeroes." She confessed, her voice cracking at the very end.

So that was it—all but a confirmation. If Castle's Timer had changed from dashes to zeros within a ten minute window and she had received her Timer in the same ten minute window, the odds certainly were in their favor. Yet, that was not a guarantee.

"So, ah, are you ready now?"

She exhaled and tucked herself beneath his chin again. "Just a few more seconds." Just a few more moments to live in the unknown; to be innocent to their fate.

"Okay."

Kate took her moments, steeling herself to lift her chin and face him—their future—bravely. After forty seconds of internal pep talks, she took a step back from him, lifted her head, and locked her gaze with his.

The piercing sound was immediate: a stringent beeping echoing off the cinder block walls and concrete stairs in the stairwell. She wrinkled her forehead in displeasure until, ten seconds later, it stopped. It was only then that Kate blinked and, when she opened her eyes again, she saw that the writer's lips had curled into a very knowing smile. It made her both want to kiss him and shove him.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a persistent minute of silence between them.

She nodded, for the first time in well over a decade of her life she could categorically say that she was okay—more so, even. "Yeah. Are you?"

"Better then," he replied. "You, uh, wanna get out of here?" He jerked his head towards the exit door.

She arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the concept of escaping. "…And go where?"

He shrugged. "Wherever. The loft. Central park. Paris."

She laughed at his last suggestion. "We're not going to Paris."

"We could go to Paris."

She ignored his adorable if not mildly insane suggestion. Instead, she stepped up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Let's just do this."

He hummed happily and locked his arms at her waist, pulling her body flush against his. She sunk into him and closed her eyes, her heart rate being calmed by the strength of his arms around her. From that position she could easily gaze at the newly installed Timer on her wrist and she saw that it now displayed the day they first met: March 9, 2009. Over four years—it seemed so much longer.

Had someone told her on that day that the ridiculous overgrown child who had smirked at her from across the interrogation room table would one day become the one person she could not imagine her life without she would have thought them insane. It was just so improbable! Yet, there they were.

When she felt Castle's lips press against her shoulder and then against the curve of her neck she hummed. Yes, she very easily could have agreed to go back to the loft, but she also knew that meant it would take them approximately seventeen seconds to end up in his bedroom, and that was not where she wanted to be. Well, she did—very much so—but she also wanted them to ease in to their relationship as much as they could. Still, she couldn't help herself from turning her head and kissing him just beneath the jaw and then again a bit closer to his chin.

Castle shifted his hands so that they rested at her hips and she gasped when she felt the pads of his fingers brushing against the roundness of her buttocks. Damn—how had they kept their hands off each other for so long? It really was shocking they'd made it the full four year duration of their partnership without pouncing on one another. Then again, her mindset to that point had been to only get involved with men she wasn't emotionally attracted to and Castle certainly did not fall into that category.

Feeling a bit bolder, she kissed his jaw twice more before he pulled back and, in doing so, brushed their lips together. She froze, completely unwilling to move away. He separated their lips for barely half a second before leaning back in for a proper kiss.

Kate's entire body felt set aflame almost the instant their lips pressed together. This was it; her first kiss with the man she now knew as her soulmate. While technically it wasn't their _first_ kiss, it was the one that she knew for certain would lead to a real, lasting relationship, and was thus more special than she could even imagine.

"Beckett—shit, sorry!"

Kate glanced over at the sheepish looking face of Ryan after she had reluctantly separated her lips from Castle's. She did not feel embarrassed that they'd been caught, but annoyed that they'd been interrupted.

"Gates is looking for you."

Kate bobbed her head and reluctantly disentangled herself from her companion. "Okay I'll be right there." Ryan apologized again before slipping out of the stairwell. Looking back to her companioning she said, "Guess the cat's out of the bag."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Really? You didn't think your _detective_ partners would figure us out pretty quickly?"

She gave a sheepish smile. "Point taken." When he smiled back she slipped out of the stairwell, took a moment to collect herself and then headed directly towards Gates' office. She wrapped her knuckles against the doorframe before poking her head in and saying, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Gates looked up from her computer and pulled the reading glasses off her nose. "I just wanted to see if the Timer men were finished."

Kate bobbed her head and stepped inside the office. "Oh, ah, yes they were packing up the last I saw." Which, of course, had been a solid ten minutes earlier—before she entered the stairwell and had her life-altering moment with Castle.

Gates observed the detective for a moment before putting her glasses back on. "Good. I assume you and Mr. Castle will be taking the rest of the day off to celebrate."

Kate blinked, wondering where such a comment had come from. "Sir?"

Peering over her glasses, the elder woman said, "Your brand new Timer is green and I'm not an idiot. I see how that man looks at you."

Kate felt her entire body flush at this unexpected comment. She had not really thought about others recognizing her feelings for Castle or his feelings for her. Obviously Lanie had and she figured Ryan and Esposito had an inkling as well, but Gates? And if she knew, how many others in the precinct did?

As standing in Gates's office was clearly not the moment to internally debate that prospect, Kate cleared her throat and looked firmly at the elder woman. "This won't affect my team; we'll still be professional."

"I'd expect nothing less. Now, would you like the afternoon off?"

Though she was not quite certain she and Castle having the afternoon to themselves would be advantageous for her "take things slow" plan, she certainly did not want to turn down such a tempting opportunity. "Yes sir. Thank you."

Gates nodded and Kate turned to leave only to be stopped a moment later when the captain said, "Detective?" She turned and was surprised to find the elder woman smiling gently. "Congratulations," she said. Kate thanked her again and then hurried back to her desk where her partner was waiting.

Hardly pausing long enough to grab her jacket, she grabbed his elbow and tugged him towards the hall. "C'mon."

He stumbled. "Where are we going?"

"I thought you wanted to go to Paris?"

"REALLY!"

His face lit up so much she almost felt bad about teasing him. "No, but we can get out of here; Gates gave me the afternoon off."

His nose wrinkled. "Really? Why?"

"Probably because she didn't want to be nauseated by you two making googly eyes at each other." Esposito commented from behind them.

Castle turned and placed his hand in the center of his companion's back. "Excuse me—our love is beautiful, not nauseating."

While Espo rolled his eyes, Kate laughed and nudged him with her elbow. "C'mon Castle."

Keeping his hand on her back as they walked towards the elevator, the writer asked, "So where are we going?"

She happily shrugged before reaching out to press the elevator call button. "Doesn't matter, as long as I'm with you."

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you all for your reviews/follows._

 _There might be a 3rd one too - and then you can see which you liked the best :)_


	3. Set: Season 5

**A/N: Set late Season 5 but before 5x21**

* * *

Yawning and scratching his belly, Castle shuffled his way out of the bedroom with great reluctance. On that chilly early spring morning, the warmth of his blankets was calling to him, but so was the desire to kiss goodbye his beautiful girlfriend. She'd managed to escape the bed without waking him, which was not atypical, but when he heard her in the kitchen still he couldn't resist. Lips still open from the yawn he mumbled out, "Morning."

She turned from her position by the kitchen counter. "You didn't have to get up."

"But then I wouldn't get to do this." When he reached her side, he kissed her lips sweetly. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Need coffee for the road?"

She picked up the travel mug from the counter and held it up. "Already got some, thanks."

He yawned again. "Mm…so I'm meeting you at eleven right?"

"Oh." Her eyes flicked down towards her toes and she placed the mug back on the counter. Folding her arms over her chest she began cautiously, "Castle…"

He huffed out a breath through his nostrils and concluded, "You changed your mind."

She looked up at him from beneath her brow. "I'm sorry."

Taking a half step back from her, he shook off her apology. "Don't apologize, Kate. I'm not mad." He could not even honestly say he was shocked. He had been shocked when she finally agreed to get the Timer (well, partially shocked; he had been extra annoying about it—purposely). Even when she'd finally bit the bullet and told him she'd made the appointment he could see in her eyes that she wasn't certain, that she wasn't committed. He'd wanted it so much that he chose to ignore her caution, but ultimately he was not shocked.

"You're disappointed?"

He shrugged. Did he want the metal on his wrist to go from worthless sliver displaying nothing but dashes to one that symbolized his devotion to the one he loved most? Sure, but not at the expense of upsetting her. "Maybe a little, but I'll get over it. Seriously; it's fine. I'd be upset if you did something just for me when you didn't want it." Though he gave her a smile, she continued to look hesitant so he added, "Kate, really; it's fine. We're happy and nothing changes right?"

"Nothing changes." She confirmed. Then, rising up on her toes, she smudged her lips over his again. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Have a great day. Don't miss me too much."

As she hurried towards the door, she called out over her shoulder with a wink, "I won't!"

* * *

Richard Castle was writing—he was totally writing. Well, he would absolutely, totally be writing in a minute—after just one more YouTube video.

Something was off about Nikki and Rook in this chapter and he just couldn't figure out what; they weren't flowing. He'd gone onto the video website in hopes of a distraction that would allow his brain to solve the issue on its own, but forty minutes later he still had nothing. Then again, maybe the problem wasn't his brain, but Nikki and Rook's real life counterparts.

Castle loved Kate; he honestly, truly loved her more purely than he'd ever loved anyone before in his life. She was his best friend. She was the reason he wanted to be his best self. No question existed in his mind that they were meant to spend their lives together, which was why he wanted them both to have Timers that proved that; it was his version of getting a billboard proclaiming said love in Times Square (which he knew she'd kill him for.)

He understood that the Timer wasn't her style and never question her love for him, but still: he _was_ disappointed and if he was disappointed that meant his brain was distracted—too distracted to write anything but snippiness between his male and female led characters. Perhaps he needed more than a YouTube break. Perhaps he needed a walk or even—

Castle's thoughts were interrupted by a strange chirping noise filling the room. That was strange. He didn't have a digital watch that made such a noise and as far as he was aware his cell phone had never made that sound either. So what had—

Dear god!

His wrist—the noise came from his wrist! Rather, the Timer on his wrist, which for the prior two decades had displayed dashes but now proudly showed nine zeros.

Oh god—what did that mean!?

Quickly navigating to the search bar on his browser window, Castle typed in, "my Timer has zeros," and hit the search button. When he clicked on the first link, he found himself on the Timer's FAQ page staring down at a section entitled, "Congrats! Your Mate is mere hours away!"

Upon further examination, this snippet referred to traditional Timer matches: when a count-down clock zeroed out at midnight, but his situation did not apply, so he hit the back browser button twice to return him to the search bar. That time, he typed in, "My Timer went from dashes to zeroes." Once again, he was directed to a Timer FAQ and began to read.

 _If your timer goes from dashes to zeroes it means your soul mate has been implanted with their Timer, but you've already met. No need to worry—your Timer will still go off the next time you lock eyes with them._

Shit. Oh shit. Oh shit!

Pushing himself up from his seat, Rick covered his mouth with his hand, a nauseated feeling forming in his belly. Oh god, he was sure—he _knew_. But this…how was this possible?

Kate Beckett was his soul mate—he knew it in his bones, in every inch of every fiber of his being. He had known from the moment they kissed. The ten months since the onset of their official relationship had merely solidified his prior beliefs. Every morning he woke up beside her was a gift. Every smile she gave him, every brush of her lips against his flipped his world upside down. He was irrevocably in love with her and would be until his dying day.

But this? This was not how their day was supposed to go!

She was going to get her Timer; they agreed. She had been resistant, stating that _what if_ they weren't a match. Impossible, but as she insisted he played devil's advocate.

So what, he's said. No law existed stating marrying one's Timer-mate was a requirement. They would continue to be together because they wanted to be; nothing had to change. She said it would and realistically he knew she could be right, but the notion did not remain in his mind for more than a fraction of a second because he knew there was no possibility of that happening.

But now…oh god—now what was he going to do?

For the prior two and a half years he'd lived in a world where Kate Beckett was his soulmate and so he stopped checking his Timer several times a day—or even once a month. The status of the Timer didn't matter because the dashes wouldn't go away until she was implanted with hers. Then, they would share the moment together, which was why he'd been…well, insistent was a strong word. Nudge—he had nudged her. Persistently. Until she finally agreed to get a Timer "at some point."

With this acknowledgment, his plan was set. He went out and bought a ring, had it engraved and then casually reminded her about the Timer every time they saw an advertisement for the device. Given how heavily the Timer company advertised, his reminders became quite frequent until she'd finally made the appointment. He knew she had at least in part done so to get him to shut up, but that didn't bother him.

With the appointment set, Castle had planned to jet them off to the Hamptons for an impromptu romantic weekend. Well, to Kate it would seem impromptu, but in reality it was a product of heavy planning. He didn't want to propose their first night there—even if it killed him to wait. He had romantic gestures planned to woo her and catch her off guard until he proposed the following afternoon or evening—whenever he found the right moment. But now…

His feelings hadn't changed. He still loved her. He still wanted to marry her. He still wanted to have a family with her…but he also wondered who the hell his Timer-mate was and when he met her. Given the number of public events he did the possibilities were quite endless. Was she a fan? Was she someone in the publishing industry? Had they met through one of Kate's cases?

Kate—oh god, Kate. What would she say?

What would she say if (when) he met his Timer-mate? He was curious, but didn't care, for he knew he would never love another the way he loved her. But would she want to walk away? God, he didn't want that, but he was terrified she would use it as an excuse that they weren't meant to be. He'd fight for her, though, up until his dying breath.

* * *

"Castle?"

The writer jumped when he heard the door to the apartment slam shut. Shit—she was home?! He wasn't ready for this!

He had spent the prior forty-five minutes pacing his office, nearly wearing a hole in his socks from all the back-and-forth action over the rugs. God, how could he look her in the eye and tell her what happened? How could he face her tears and heartbreak?

Wringing his hands together, he took in a deep breath, knowing the rip-off-a-bandage method was best applied in this case. "Kate, listen. I'm so sorry but-"

As Castle exited his office and looked at his girlfriend an obnoxious beeping filled the room and all he could think was, _Now what!?_ His cell phone alarm didn't sound like that, nor did any alarm clocks in the house that he was aware of. Plus why would they be going off at 1:37 in the afternoon? What could possibly…

The writer's brow wrinkled as a smile crossed Kate's face. Why was she smiling? Did she know what the noise was? Was she— _oh god!_ The realization hit him suddenly and he cursed himself for not realizing for the second time that day.

The Timer! It was the Timer!

"Surprise," she said with a knowing little shrug.

Yanking up his right shirt sleeve, Castle found that his timer wasn't dashes, nor was it zeros, but it displayed a date almost five years in the past. Overwhelmed with emotion, he rushed forward and pulled her into a crushing hug as tears slipped down his cheek. "Kate! I—oh god, Kate!" Kate was his mate! His soulmate! He had thought—but it wasn't—and now—now! "Oh my god, I was so afraid—the timer went to zero and I didn't-"

"I'm so sorry." She breathed into his ear. Pressing several kisses against his cheek she pulled back and cupped his jaw, brushing his tears away with her thumbs. "I didn't mean to scare you; I was just trying to surprise you."

"Well you did!"

She brushed her lips over his. "Sorry. I didn't even think about your timer zeroing out until after I'd done it and then I thought maybe you'd be too busy writing to notice."

Castle spluttered as he pushed himself away from her. "Too busy wri…have you met me!?"

Kate laughed. "No, I know I just…I was so nervous about it I didn't think—I'm sorry."

He shook off her apology as it wasn't needed. Had he the opportunity to surprise her, he would have jumped at it, so he could not be mad. Besides, they were soulmates and who could be mad about that? Pulling her back into his arms, he kissed her sweetly and hummed out, "I love you."

Sliding her arms more tightly around him she echoed with, "I love you, too."

Castle hummed and pulled her in a little tighter. No matter how many times he heard her say those three special words, he knew he'd never tire of them. The first time she'd said them had only been a few months earlier, though he knew she'd felt them for much longer. At the time, the event had been so simple—she'd said it so casually he wasn't even sure she'd realized it was the first time. It wasn't until later when he broached the subject, unable to stand the elephant in the room no longer, that she admitted she had not intended to say them like that, but meant them all the same.

"What made you change your mind?" he questioned, impossibly curious.

She shrugged and slipped away from him to walk over and lean against the arm of the couch. "I ran out to get coffee—lunchtime pick-me-up—and this girl came into the café while I was waiting. She had just found her match. He'd helped her on the subway when some kids knocked her bag off her shoulder. She was going on about how nice and wonderful he seemed and how excited she was to have finally— _finally —_ found her match after so long—she couldn't have been more than twenty-four or –five."

Castle chuckled. "Of course."

"But I just…I thought about how excited you got when I finally agreed to get my Timer and I know you said I shouldn't do it just for you but I wanted to. And then I had to do it immediately before I chickened out again. It was probably one of the scariest things I'd ever done."

He walked over and sat down on the couch next to where she leaned so he could take her hand. "What? Why?"

She settled deeper onto the arm and draped one of her legs over his. "Because…it played into all these fears I have about us. How we're so different and have different backgrounds and on paper we just don't make any sense."

He gave her a look and she continued with, "I know, I know; we don't live our lives on paper, but there's this nagging voice in the back of my mind that says you finally trusted someone and love them and maybe he won't break your heart, but the universe sure will."

He pulled on her hand until she slid off the couch arm onto his lap and he could wrap his arms around her waist. "Is that voice gone now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because now we have cold, hard proof," he said, brushing his thumb over the newly implanted Timer on her right wrist.

She smiled down at him. "Yeah we do."

He kissed her shoulder and leaned his cheek against it. "You could have called me, you know; I would have gone with you."

"I know."

"Then I wouldn't have panicked."

She groaned. "Oh gosh did you?"

Nodding, he said, "Very much. I was about to have it out with the universe for ruining my life."

"I'm so sorry Castle."

He hummed and looked up at her with a grin. "I think I know how you can make it up to me."

* * *

Gazing over at his beautiful, dozing soulmate, Castle knew he could not wait even a second longer. Was it hasty? Yes. Could she potentially have a poor reaction to it? Yes, but he just couldn't help himself. (When could he ever?) As stealthily as he could, he reached into his bedside table drawer and removed the black velvet square box stashed inside. With it clutched in his right fist hidden beneath the covers, he reached out and brushed some hair from her face to test to see if she was awake. She hummed, so he continued.

"You know how I'm impatient about some things?"

She opened her eyes and gazed at him, incredulous. "Some things?"

"A lot of things."

"Right."

"And how this is just one of my personality quirks you just have to accept?"

Her brow wrinkled. "Okay…where are you going with this?"

"I…I know I should be happy with the fact that we're Timer-mates—and I am; I'm thrilled! This is…what I've always thought, what I've always wanted, but I also want more. So…" He paused to pull the ring box out from beneath the blanket and placed in on the bed between their shoulders. He watched as her eyes widened and she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing—not if you don't want," he said, wanting her to have the option. She moved her gaze from the box to his face and he saw tears collecting in her lower eyelids. "I mean, I don't have to open the box—not if you're not ready, not if you think it's too soon, but Kate this is what I want for us. I love you—I've always loved you—and I know you're it for me so I guess my mindset is: why wait?"

"We haven't even been dating a year." She pointed out softly

"I know, and that's why I'll let you decide. Do you want me to open the box or wait?"

His heart thundered beneath his ribcage for thirty seconds her eyes gazed down at the black box again. Then, slowly, the corners of her lips curled upwards and she lifted her head.

"Open the box, Castle."

* * *

 _A/N: Once again, thank you so much for all your reviews - and for all the prompts!_

 _These were the original 3 I had planned out, but now there will (most likely) be one for Flowers for Your Grave, Always, and maybe 1 or 2 more since i received so many great requests_


	4. Set: The Limey

_**A/N: Set at the end of The Limey** \- based on a request by Lou and a bunch of others_

* * *

Pacing back and forth across the sidewalk in front of Castle's loft Kate wrung her hands together. She had already been inside the building, intent on finding the writer's whereabouts, but she'd met Alexis in the elevator on her way up. The young red-head, on her way out to meet a study group, had confirmed her father was not home, but offered for Kate to wait inside for him. She refused, not wanting to be in the loft alone, and instead chose to wait for him on the sidewalk. In a way, it was better: the pacing was preferred over sitting because it kept her on edge; it kept her from losing her nerve.

She wasn't sure how much time passed—at least half an hour or more—before she heard approaching footsteps from behind her. Just as they slowed to a stop, she turned to face him. Unlike most other times, he did not grin from ear-to-ear at the sight of her. His face did not light with joy. In fact, it displayed nothing other than mild annoyance.

"Beckett. What are you doing here?"

She took two steps forward coaching herself not to back down; she wouldn't run away from this—not anymore. "I wanted to talk to you. I went to the Timer store first, but they were closed and I came here anyway." She sucked in a deep breath before continuing as she shook away the sting of disappointment she felt when she saw the CLOSED sign on the Timer shop's door. She had wanted that moment to be filled with the chimes of matching Timers not with the irritated honking of New York City cabs; unfortunately she had been a bit too late, but still she would not back down.

"I want to know what's going on with us, why you're pushing me away all of a sudden."

He turned away from her and walked towards the building entrance. "I'm not."

"You are. Castle!" she said sharply, grabbing on to the sleeve of his blazer.

"What?" He spun around, glaring fire at her. "What Beckett? What do you want?"

"I want you to be honest with me."

He let out a derisive laugh. "Because you've been so honest to me?"

Her brow wrinkled. "What are you talking about?"

His nostrils flared as he huffed out a breath. "Eight months ago you told me you didn't remember what happened during your shooting…"

Kate swallowed hard and dropped her hand from his arm. _Oh no_.

"…but I heard you in interrogation last week…"

 _Oh no. Oh god. Oh no_.

"…You said you remembered and that—wait." He cut off his own speech mid-sentence and tilted his head in her direction. "Did you say you went to a Timer store?"

She nodded distantly, her thoughts still consumed by the curiosity of how much he had heard while she interrogated her suspect. "Yes, but they were closed."

"Why did you go there?"

"To get a Timer."

Castle's shoulders rounded and his chin dropped a few inches. Clearly annoyed by her matter-of-fact statement he grumbled. "Yes, obviously but…why?"

Knowing she had his full attention, she pushed the fears and concerns from what took place a week prior from her mind and took in a deep breath. Kate faced the writer squarely and gazed at him without hesitation. "I went out with Colin. I let him buy me a drink and we actually had a nice time. And then he tried to kiss me."

Castle took a half step back and lowered his gaze. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I didn't let him," she said with enough force to get Castle to look at her again. "I realized in that moment what I've been trying to figure out in the past few months of therapy. I didn't want Colin to kiss me I wanted…I want you to kiss me."

When the words left her lips Kate realized the confession she had feared wasn't that hard at all. In fact, it was easy, looking into his blue eyes, watching them relax as she said the words. She felt as though the one of the sandbags she'd been carrying around on her shoulders evaporated and, overjoyed by the lighter feeling, she continued at a rapid-fire pace.

"My therapist asked me again and again what would scare me more: if you did wait for me or if you didn't and that's when it hit me; that's when I knew it would scare me more if you didn't. I could feel you slipping away I didn't know what triggered it, because I thought we were still in a good place but then you showed up with Jacinda and I just…I had this rush of emotions and I—I don't know." She shook her head still not sure what about that moment with Colin had made her brain scream, "Timer!"

"All I could think was that I had to get a Timer so I'd know without any question that there was something here—with us. And if there was then I could come here and you could just forget about Jacinda because…because of us. That's where you were, right? With Jacinda?"

"I…" Castle blinked, almost startled as though he had forgotten about the flight attendant's existence until the moment Kate mentioned her. "I, um, dropped her off at the airport; she had to get back to work."

"She's gone?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Well that certainly improved her mood, but the fact that she existed at all proved the rift between them still existed.

"I…you should probably come inside." Castle added after a few seconds of silence.

"Okay."

* * *

"Katherine! What a surprise—a pleasant one of course."

Kate smiled at the red-headed woman standing by the kitchen island as she entered the apartment trailing behind her writer companion. "Evening Martha."

Holding up the bottle of wine beside her, Martha asked, "Can I offer you some libations?"

"Not right now thanks."

"Richard?"

"No, thank you Mother." With that, Castle turned back to look at Kate and jerked his chin as an indication she should follow him. She did so and once they were in his office he gestured for her to sit on the small sofa, where he joined her, clasping his hands in his lap and leaning his elbows against his thighs. "Let me see if I understand this: you almost kissed Colin, realized you didn't want to kiss Colin and then went to get a Timer."

"Yes." She agreed to his summary. "I thought I had to know—about us. If got a Timer and it showed a countdown then I…I would have been devastated, but if it showed zeros I could come here and we…" She let her voice drift off, suddenly feeling childish and silly. She was not generally the one with grand romantic notions and there was nothing more romantic than expecting to lock eyes with Richard Castle and discover him to be her mate.

He sighed, leaned back and raked a hand through his hair. "I thought you didn't feel that way about me."

"No, no. Not at all." She shook her head; god, what a mess. For over a week he had thought her hiding the fact that she heard what he said in the cemetery was an indication that she did not feel the same. As a result, he'd gone off to Vegas and come back with a blonde accessory. She'd been hurt by the action, but she had no one to blame but herself. "I…I thought you understood how I felt when we talked on the swings."

"So did I! But then I found out you've been lying for eight months. Why didn't you tell me? If you asked for time I would have given it."

She winced as self-loathing coursed through her. She knew that; deep down she knew but at the time she had been too afraid to listen to her gut. Reaching out she placed her hand delicately on his forearm. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Castle I should have…I should have trusted you, but I didn't trust me. I was so scared I…I didn't think. Then the longer it went on I was afraid to bring it up in case…in case you didn't feel the same anymore." She confessed with eyes lowered to her lap.

"I…that's not…I do." He closed his hand atop hers and she finally looked up to see him smiling at her again. "I do feel the same."

Relief coursing through her, Kate scooted forward so that she could rest her cheek against Castle's shoulder. As he laced their fingers together, she shut her eyes and leaned harder against him. Castle still felt the same to her which, given everything they'd been through in the prior months, felt rather miraculous. If he still felt the same, then it meant they had a chance—they could still be together.

In that moment, she had never regretted more her stubborn need to shield her heart. In that moment she vowed to never take Castle or how he felt about her for granted again. Hard as it would be, she would do everything in her power to be honest with him because she could not risk losing him; she had come too close already.

Opening her eyes, she caught sight of the Timer reflecting from the inside of Castle's right wrist. She reached out her left hand and brushed her fingertip over the edge of it. He flipped up his hand so it became more visible and she could see the dashes etched into it, just as they had been there for the prior two decades (so he told her) and just as they would be there until she received hers. Or so she hoped.

"Do you…do you think we might be…" She let her voice drift off and the implied question hang in the air as she gazed up tentatively at him.

He reached out and dusted his fingers over the edge of her jaw as he smiled unwaveringly. "Have for a while, actually."

Kate felt her heart swell so much her rib cage tightened. "Really?"

"Really."

Tears beginning to blur her vision, Kate shook her head and turned away from him. "I wasn't sure that we could…because you're you and I'm just…"

Using the pad of his index finger beneath her chin, he guided her face back towards his and said, "Extraordinary." He then leaned down and ghosted his lips over hers in a move that could barely be classified as a kiss, but still made her breath catch in her chest.

After brushing a stray tear from her cheek she said, "I'm sorry Castle—for lying to you, for making you think I didn't care."

"Apology accepted." Then, giving her hand a squeeze he grinned a bit wider. "You were really going to get a Timer, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I still will, too." Though her momentum had died down a bit, she wanted to commit to what she started and get the Timer to know with one hundred percent certainty. She would, however, check the hours of the office before she went again.

"I…oh actually you know what?" He stood from the sofa and held out one index finger to her. "Hold that thought, just let me check something…"

* * *

Arms folded across her chest, Kate looked between the man setting up the suitcase-sized device in the loft living area and the smug expression of the mystery writer beside her. "I cannot believe you have a guy for this."

He grinned. "When will you learn, Beckett? I have a guy for everything."

Kate could not help but roll her eyes. Of course Castle could procure a Timer representative after eleven p.m. on a weeknight. _Of course_.

"Are you ready ma'am?" The young man, who did not look old enough to drive a car let alone operate a device that possessed so much power, asked her.

"Ye-"

"Oh wait!" Castle interjected and the other two in the room looked at him. "I'm going to wait in the office okay?"

Kate glanced over at him, curious, but as soon as she saw his face she understood his reasoning. If this was going to be their moment, they did not need to share it with a Timer employee named Jeremy, so she nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Five minutes later, after showing Jeremy out and examining the now angry-red outline of the newly implanted Timer, Kate made her way back to the writer's office. Her Timer displayed nine zeros and if all went according to plan, the writer's Timer would have displayed the same the moment hers was activated.

She stopped just outside the entryway in the bookshelves and rocked on her toes. "Castle?"

"Yeah? C'mon in whenever you're ready."

"Okay." She took a deep breath in and pushed it out slowly through pursed lips. Then, she rounded the corner and locked eyes with the man seated at the desk. When silence persisted for over two seconds her brow wrinkled, but then she realized the reason. She had not actually locked eyes with Castle but with the fake cartoonish eye glasses he wore. She was shocked they did not also have an oversized fake nose and mustache affixed to them. "Castle!"

He chuckled and stood from his desk, still wearing the spectacles. "Sorry, found these while I was waiting; couldn't resist."

"You're so…." But her insult was cut off the moment he whipped the frames from his face and a stringent beeping noise filled the room. Startled, Kate could feel herself flush and she glanced down at her right inner wrist, which now displayed the date they met in green numbers.

"You were saying?" The writer husked now that he stood just a foot from her.

She turned, smiled, and looped her arms around his neck. "Never mind."

"Kate…" He breathed out her name while resting his hands against her waist. She leaned into him—her soulmate—without hesitation. Their noses brushed together sending tingles down her spine and heightening the anticipation for when their lips connected. When they did, she felt fireworks skirting across every inch of her skin. It was, without question, one of the most perfect moments of her life.

"Worth the wait?" he asked, his lips skimming across her cheeks and jaw.

She hummed. "Absolutely." He kissed her again, hard and quick, before backing his way towards the bedroom entrance, his hands still at her waist. After just a few steps, Kate dug in her toes and stopped their progress with, "Wait…"

"Too soon? Because if you want to wait…"He didn't sound angry or upset, but matter-of-fact, which pleased her and frustrated her at the same time.

It wasn't that she _wanted_ to wait. Every inch of her body hummed in anticipation of making love to him. Yet, as she gazed over her shoulder into his bedroom, she could not help but think about the possibility of Jacinda being on the same sheets just a few hours earlier. She could not fault him for the tryst; it had, after all, been a result of her withheld truths, but that didn't mean she needed to be excessively comfortable with jumping into the same bed with the sheets barely cooled. "'s just…this soon after you and Jacinda."

His eyes wide, Castle shook his head. "Oh no-we didn't. We went to dinner, drove around in my Ferrari, and flirted, but never…"

Surprised and relieved, she asked, "You didn't?" just to confirm what had seemed almost unbelievable earlier that day.

He shook his head. "I promise."

"Okay."

He grinned, slipped his arm beneath her thighs and scooped her into his arm in one swift move. She laughed loudly at the action and again when he dumped her on to the mattress. "Castle!" she said, half-scolding him.

He clambered on the bed and lay beside her. "Yeeess?" he asked teasingly as he slid a hand beneath her shirt and splayed his fingers over her belly.

Cupping his cheek with her hand she sighed. "Nothing; nothing at all." Then, she kissed him.

* * *

 _A/N: for those of you not on Twitter, the following Timer insets will be posted: Knockout/Rise, Always, Child's Play, Flowers for Your Grave_

 _There might also be one for Nikki Heat, but it will be in the middle - Flowers for Your Grave will definitely be posted last._

 _I also have to thank all of you for your OVERWHELMING support for this set of stories. Honestly, I never expected it, so thank you very much. I'm also glad to see some of you went ahead and watched the movie._


	5. Set: Knockout Rise

**A/N: set at the end of Knockout and into Rise**

* * *

 _"Kate, I love you; I love you, Kate."_

It had been the moment that changed his life forever. From that day forward his very existence would be defined as before Kate was shot and after, because in that one moment everything changed for him— _everything_.

As he held her in his arms while her breathing turned to gasps and uneven rattling noises, Castle begged every deity he knew to save her, to let her stay with him, because he was in love with her. _She_ was his heart and without her he did not know how he would survive. And, somehow, when her heart stopped and started in the ambulance and he felt a similar searing sensation in his own chest he knew.

She was his soulmate.

Gone in an instant were his grand designs of waiting until he was in a relationship with her (or any woman) to obtain a Timer. That had been stupid, ridiculous and far too romantic-idealist of him. He needed a Timer. He needed to know because, God, he wanted it.

After nearly pacing a hole in the tile floors of the hospital, fighting with Josh, and having to stare into the agonized face of Jim Beckett for hours, the doctor arrived to tell them that Kate had survived surgery and was in critical but stable position. With that news, Castle had gone home, showered, and then gone immediately to the Timer store.

When implanted, his timer displayed nine zeros, meaning that his soulmate already had her Timer implanted and they had already met. "Not surprising given how famous you are," the Timer employee had said with a cheeky grin, but Castle knew the reason—the real reason. He could only hope that the woman whose Timer had gone from dashes to zeros at that moment was lying in a hospital bed in southern Manhattan.

The subject of Kate Beckett's Timer had come up several times over their three year partnership, but she had never been very forthcoming with the true reasons as to why she hated it so much. She had confessed to him that she got it implanted at age seventeen when she and her rebellious friends had decided to get them ironically to prove how stupid they were. They laughed equally hard at the counting down digits on theirs and the dashes on Kate's, though Kate confessed to being disappointed that hers was different. At the time of their conversation, she said she was glad the Timer was blank, because she didn't have time for "something so ridiculous," but Castle suspected there was another reason.

Their most in-depth conversation about her Timer occurred while she was staying at the loft after her apartment blew up. It took Castle nearly another year to figure out the true reason she was glad her Timer displayed dashes; it meant she could hide. The man who was her match—her soulmate—could have been any man she encountered who didn't have a Timer, yet she chose to be in relationships with Timered men, because she wanted to hide there to avoid having to face anything real. As for the true reason, he couldn't be certain. Perhaps she had been hurt in a relationship in the past, perhaps it was because of the untimely death of her mother, whatever the reason she hid.

Around the same time Castle realized that, he fully accepted the potential that he and Kate could be Timer-mates. He was falling for her; there was no question about that. So many times he thought she might be falling for him too, despite the fact that she remained with Doctor Motorcycle Boy. When she was shot, though, he knew for sure. They had to be soulmates—they just had to be.

The following day, spring in his step and flowers in his hand, Castle arrived at the hospital hoping that Kate had improved. Much to his great joy, the nurses told him that she had. Her condition had been upgraded to "serious but stable" which they assured him was about the best that could be expected of someone who had taken a bullet to the heart not twenty-four hours early. She was also alert and would be able to visit with him for a few minutes.

Pausing only to fluff his hair in the reflection of the glass hospital door and to nod a hello to LT, who stood protectively in front of it, Castle strolled into his partner's hospital room, his chin held high. He braced himself, prepared for the moment their eyes would meet and the Timer on his wrist would confirm what he suspected, but he was caught off guard when he spotted the man seated in the chair beside her bed, cradling her hand tenderly. Josh looked over at him and scowled.

"Castle?"

"Ah, y-yeah, Beckett, hi." He looked to her, furious that the doctor would detract from their moment, only to see her gaze was not on him. Her eyes were shut as her hand skirted over her forehead. He could see the dark circles beneath her lids and the pale color in her once vibrant cheeks, but that didn't matter; to him, she was still gorgeous, even more so since he was afraid he'd never see her alive again. "Nurses said you were doing better."

She hummed while Josh said, "But she still needs her rest."

Castle fought the urge to glare at the man, but managed to soften the look to one that was merely pointed. "And I want her to rest; I just want to say hello."

"I'll be back after rounds," Josh said to Kate before kissing her forehead and moving away from her bed; Castle watched him go.

"You bring me flowers, Castle?"

"Ah, yeah." He gazed down at the bundle and then surveyed her room. "Heard you were opening a flower store and wanted to contribute."

She chuckled, weakly. "Thanks. I-"

It was then she finally looked at him again and a sharp beeping sound filled the room. Castle strangled the base of the bouquet as his heart leapt with joy. The Timer! The Timer was going off! He and Kate locked eyes and the Timer went off which meant—confirmed—that she was his mate, but she…she looked confused and gazed up at the heart and oxygen monitor beside her. Well, he couldn't fault her for that; he imagined she was on quite a bit of medication which could easily have been fogging her brain.

Steeping over to the bed, he placed the flowers down on the table and took the seat Josh had vacated. "You are feeling better, aren't you?"

She hummed and relaxed her head back against her pillow. Gazing at him through heavy lids, she said, "Yes and they tell me I have you to thank for it."

"Me?"

"Espo said you tried to save me—and that you should try out for the Giants."

Embarrassed, he laughed. "Oh, well, I-" But then he paused as her statement processed. "'Espo said,'" he echoed. "You don't remember?"

"I…" She lowered her gaze to her lap where her thumb brushed over the inner wrist of her right hand. "It's hazy, just flashes here and there. 's probably better that way, not to remember something that traumatic."

The word traumatic felt like a punch to his sternum. The shooting itself? Sure; he didn't mind if that moment was wiped from her mind, but his words? He didn't want that; not at all. And the way she was brushing her wrist—her Timer—it was almost as though she knew somehow. God, he wanted to see her Timer—he wanted to confirm that it now matched his own; the beeping noise hadn't been enough confirmation.

"I just keep seeing him, Castle; every time I close my eyes I see Montgomery, lying in that hangar and I think…maybe I could have saved him, maybe if you'd let me-"

Castle cut off her musings with a firm, "They would have killed you, Kate."

She stared him down, her eyes as alert as they'd been since he'd entered the room. "You don't know that."

 _The bullet in your chest does_ , he wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, he took a deep breath and decided on a calmer approach. "Kate-"

"'m sorry, Castle." She sighed, her head lolling back against the pillow. "'m really tired."

He nodded and stood; she needed her rest to get better and he did not want to be the reason she wasn't resting. "Of course. I'll come and see you tomorrow."

"No."

He was so stunned that he was sure he heard her wrong. But as his brow crinkled, she continued.

"I just need some time, Castle. Time to try and process everything that happened these past few days."

He bobbed his head, hating it but wanting to be understanding. "Sure. How much time?"

"I don't know. A little while at least. I'll call you."

He nodded again. "Sure, Kate; call me any time."

* * *

But she hadn't called him. Not after a day. Not after two or three.

On the third night staring at the blank screen on his phone begging it to light up with Kate's picture, Castle looked at his right inner wrist for the first time. To that point he'd been trying to distract himself, not wanting to look at it and see the day they met—one of the most memorable moments of his life—staring back at him, mocking him, but he looked at it then and was stunned— _horrified_ —at what he saw.

 _06.12.2004_

What the hell was that? He and Kate had not met until 2009, so why was his Timer displaying a date five years prior?

Confused, he turned to his laptop and began to search the internet about Timers and their accuracy. He clicked and typed and clicked for hours. He searched every corner of the Internet he could find, from the Timer official website to public forums and blogs. He only found two instances of people claiming their Timer displayed the wrong date, but neither was all that verifiable. On the official Timer website there was a disclaimer that Timers could, on occasion, register false positives, but their dates were nearly always accurate.

Was that what he and Beckett were? A false positive? His emotions and heart rate had been running sky-high in that moment. Could he have triggered his Timer simply because he'd wanted it badly enough? As a man who thoroughly believed things happened for a reason, he found that concept hard to swallow, but then a week passed. And another week. And another, and Kate Beckett never called.

Furious. He was furious. And hurt. How could she care so little for him and their partnership to not call him after such a significant and traumatic event had taken place? How could she have so little regard for him? They were partners. True, during one of their last conversations she had, in effect, terminated that partnership, but he knew she didn't mean it he _knew_ … he thought he knew but…but maybe not.

Maybe she just wanted to be with Josh. Maybe she just didn't want to be with him. Whatever the reason she didn't call and maybe it didn't matter.

Maybe they weren't soulmates after all.

* * *

Strolling out of his apartment building, Castle paused to take in the lovely Manhattan summer weather. That day was atypically cool, with the temperature projected to only be in the high seventies, so the writer had decided to escape his den of editing and go for a stroll to clear his head. Too much time spent with Nikki Heat could do that to him, particularly because of how much she reminded him of—

"Kate." He spoke the detective's name flatly when he spotted her standing beside a tree just past the entrance to his building. His tone did not indicate relief, joy, or even surprise. It was flat for she was the last person he expected to see.

Pushing herself away from the tree, she approached and stopped just a foot from him. "Hi."

"Hi." He returned, his voice clipped as he turned from her and continued on his way up the street. Unsurprisingly, she followed.

"Castle—wait! Please!"

"I did; six weeks and you didn't call." He snipped, continuing at his steady pace. Okay, it had been five weeks two days and a handful of hours, but who was counting?

"I said I needed time."

"You said a little while." He responded then merely shrugged. "What's it matter anyway?"

"We're partners."

"Not anymore." She had made that much plain and it was time he obeyed her wishes.

"Castle—Castle! Please I—I—"

Despite the bustle of the New York City streets, he heard it—the wheeze in her voice. Spinning around, he found her doubled over, her hands against her thighs, her chest heaving. Suddenly he felt as though he were the one with the bullet in his heart. Rushing the quarter block back to her he uttered out, "Kate? Oh, god, are you okay?"

She pushed herself up and he saw her skin was a bit paler, her forehead a little clammy. "Just…need a minute…" She spluttered out, making it seem as though she had just sprinted the prior block. She stumbled towards the stone wall of a nearby building and he put a gentle arm on her back to help guide her there. When she rested her upper back against the wall, he felt guilt wracking through him.

"Sorry—I'm so sorry." What a moron he was! Hurrying away from a woman who had just survived a traumatic incident? God, it hadn't even been six weeks! Was it okay for her to be out of bed? "Should you be walking around?"

"Walking is actually… suggested exercise. Running… not so much." She finished with a wry smile in between her heavy breaths.

"Then why were you running?"

"Because…you wouldn't stop walking…and we need…to talk about this. Us."

He scoffed. "Us? What us? It's not like we're…never mind." Though his hand was still braced against her arm, he turned away from her.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Castle."

He looked back to her and studied her face, looking for signs of improvement. Her coloring was still pale, and her chest was still heaving a bit more than he thought to be appropriate. "It's nothing—should you be sitting down or something?"

She shook her head and pushed herself away from the wall so she stood properly beside him. "I'm fine. I don't understand why you don't want to talk about us. I thought you'd be thrilled."

He scowled. "About you ignoring me for six weeks? On what planet would he be happy about that?"

"No. This." She held out her right hand, palm up, flashing her wrist in his direction.

Though he caught sight of the edge of the Timer beneath her shirtsleeve he couldn't have turned away faster if it was Medusa poking her snake-covered head from beneath the cloth. "That? Damn thing doesn't even work."

"What do you mean?"

Still angry about the three years of his life that had been virtually thrown in the garbage by her actions and the stupid Timer, he shoved his right wrist towards her face and snapped, "We didn't meet in 2004, Kate."

She took a half step back and said quietly, "Yes we did. At the book signing."

Castle blinked. He swallowed, blinked again, and still could not fully process what she had said. His voice just above a whisper he asked, "What?"

She spoke slowly in a very talking-someone-off-a-ledge voice. "I got a Derrick Storm book signed by you in June of 2004."

Castle gazed down at his arm as though the appendage had offended every one of his ancestors. "You had…and you never told me?"

She coughed, pressed her hand against her sternum and then shrugged. "Didn't…didn't want you to know."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter."

He disagreed but remained too shocked to argue. "But you...I...Oh my god Kate I thought this meant we weren't...that it was broken..."

She let out a mirthless laugh and the coughed again. "No, I'm the only one that's broken around here."

"You're not."

She shook her head and he could see tears welling in her eyes. Her chest beginning to heave again she managed, "I am...I pushed you away even though I knew we were Timer mates because I...I was scared. I…never had a… relationship like this… before…and…"

"Kate." Rick interrupted her gasping with a hand on her shoulder, now deeply concerned for her wellbeing. "Do I need to take you to a doctor?"

She shook her head. "No…I just…maybe I should lay down."

He nodded and skimmed his hand across the middle of her back to give more support. "Okay. Want me to take you to your place? Do you need meds? Or is my apartment ok?"

"Yours is ok."

"You're sure?"

She nodded and allowed him to guide her back to the building entrance. "This happened to me one in PT when I pushed too hard; just had to lay down for ten minutes until my heartrate went back to normal."

Though he wasn't convinced she did not need to be at least examined by a doctor, he guided her up to the loft and then directly into his bedroom. After she sat on the mattress he pulled off her tennis shoes, and then allowed her to recline against his pillow. He asked if she wanted water and she nodded, so he sprinted to the kitchen and returned with a glass, waiting patiently for her to take a few sips. He then took it from her, placed it on the bedside table and sat at the end of the bed, watching the rise and fall of her chest closely as she tried to relax.

* * *

A quarter hour later, Castle sat on the bed beside Kate's knees, his legs stretched out long as he watched her to make sure she was still okay. He was torn between timing the intervals of her breathing and wondering what the hell had just happened in his life. He'd gone from a man desperately trying to get over a woman he wasn't technically dating, to once again being a man matched with his soulmate.

 _His soulmate_.

Kate Beckett was his soulmate—she really and truly was. The Timer had not been wrong; it had not displayed a false positive. Their moment in her hospital room was real and he could not have been more grateful for it.

"Have you been sitting there the whole time?"

His eyes darted towards her face when he heard her sluggish voice. "I have. It was only about fifteen minutes."

"Why?"

"I was making sure you were still breathing."

Her brow wrinkled. "You're joking."

He absolutely was not, but at the risk of scaring her he merely shook his head and scooted a bit closer to her so that he sat by her hip. "Are you feeling better now? Do I need to call someone?"

She shrugged. "No one to call; I broke up with Josh…obviously." She added as she skimmed her left thumb over her right wrist.

"I…I meant your father. Or the doctor treating you." He clarified.

She hummed and yawned. "No. I'm fine. Thanks for lending me your bed."

He smiled. "Any time." Then he flipped over so that he was on his stomach and facing her, their heads no more than a foot apart. "So… what were you saying about a relationship like ours?"

She blinked slowly and then rolled to her right hip, tucking her hands beneath her head as she gazed at him. "You were right. I did hide from my feelings. I liked being in relationships with men had Timers that had countdown clocks because that meant I could be as closed off as I wanted and keep one foot out the door."

"But what about me? I didn't even have a Timer."

She shook her head. "But you'd already hurt me once...even if it wasn't completely your fault."

His eyes flared, having no idea what she was talking about. "What? When?"

"When you went to the Hamptons with Gina."

The Hamptons with—shit! He had invited her the summer before, but she hadn't responded so he had…oh god! "I thought you didn't want..."

"No, I was just scared because I felt a real connection with you...now I know why." She added, reaching out to touch his right inner wrist with her right index finger.

He snagged her hand and grasped it gently. "So what now?"

Her gaze remained on their intertwined hands for several moments before she looked up at him. "I heard what you said in the cemetery just before I passed out. If I made you think I didn't care about you these past few weeks, I'm sorry for that, because it's not true, but Castle I'm no good at this..."

She pulled her hand away from him, rolled over on her back, and half covered her face. "I'm good at hiding not opening up, and I don't want to hurt you. I want to try to get better, to get to a place where we can be together and I can be open about my feelings. I really, really want that, but I'll take time."

He reached out and rubbed her forearm as a promise. "I'll be here for you every step of the way."

She offered him a small smile. "I know you will."

Unable to help himself, he scooted closer to her, lining his body up against the side of hers and draping his right arm across her belly. With his head propped on his left fist, he gazed down at her. "Is this okay?"

She hummed out an affirmative response so he tucked his hand around her side. In response, she curled her hands around his arm and pulled it in, almost trying to hug it so he dropped down to place his head on the edge of the pillow beside hers all the while fighting the urge to jump up and dance. His first cuddle with Kate Beckett—in his bed, no less!—and it was perfect.

"Will you tell me about when we met in 2004?" he asked several minutes later.

She cracked open one eye to peek at him. "Will you ever stop asking about it if I don't?"

He grinned. "No." Of course not; she had opened the door and now he was endlessly curious. She could, at best, hope to push him off for a couple days, but he would be persistent about it.

She shifted and dropped her hands from around its arm. "It's… embarrassing."

"I was arrested naked on a police horse; I'm familiar with the concept."

She laughed. "No, not like that kind of embarrassing. I, just…I was a fan back then."

"And you're not now?"

She opened her eyes wide and poked her left index finger in the center of his chest. "Don't twist my words; you know what I mean."

He apologize and requested, "Please continue."

She picked at the hem of her shirt as she continued. "When my mom died I struggled a lot to make sense of things, especially with it being an unsolved case. I needed…I needed an explanation, a reason. Your books helped me with that; helped me see that things could make sense and did…even if they were fictional—sorry. I sound so-"

"No, you don't." He could see the pink color creeping into her cheeks, and wanted to assuage any embarrassment she had. What she said made his heart swell with joy and pride. She was incredible—even more so for making him feel the same.

Flicking her eyes away from him she said, "I wanted to meet you, to thank you for helping me through that but then when I got to the front of the line I felt so stupid so I just…thanked you for singing the book and said I enjoyed it; that was it." She finished with a shrug before gazing at him tentatively.

"Do you still have it? The book?" He was curious to see what, if anything, he had written in it.

She shook her head sadly. "No, it burned up in my apartment fire."

"I'm sorry."

She dusted her hand down the front of his shirt. "'sokay. Not like I didn't have the real thing beside me in the car every day."

He gazed down at her for several moments. "You shouldn't have felt silly for wanting to say those things. I mean, I've had people thank me similarly before and it… it makes me feel like what I do matters."

Her brow knitted. "It does matter; how could it not?"

He shrugged and turned away from her. "I write books, Kate; I don't solve murders."

"Now you do."

He looked back and found her gaze steady, reassuring, but he wasn't sure he deserved it. He still wasn't like her—saving the world by taking bad men off the streets. He was just…the plucky sidekick. "Some days…"

Her hand still against his chest, she promised, "They mean a lot, Castle and… and you helped me get through what I went through before so I know you'll help me now." Their eyes remained locked for several seconds until her gaze dipped towards his lips and then back up towards his face. Castle felt the electricity exploding in his spine and traveling down across each of his appendages while simultaneously tightening his chest. God, he never knew he could want someone as much as he wanted her, but he wouldn't act on it. He would respect the time she asked for and—

Without warning, Kate sat up and pressed her lips firmly over his. His hand slid from her side to the center of her back, holding her there as they kissed for several moments. Their first kiss as soulmates—and it was perfect.

When she pulled back, she looked at him for just two seconds before turning away, clearly embarrassed. His first instinct was to apologize.

"I kissed you." She pointed out.

"I know. I just…I'll be whatever you need, Kate, just tell me." He hoped—prayed—that it did not mean staying away from her anymore, but he would be willing to give up the cuddling—though reluctantly.

She rested her palm against his cheek. "For now? A best friend."

He smiled; what a perfect request. "You got it."

She nodded and tucked her head against his chest, relaxing her body against his. He didn't want to complain—quite the opposite—but wanted to make sure he was clear on the rules. "Does…does being a best friend involve cuddling?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No, no." He assured her, wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her in even closer. "Just making sure."

She hummed. "And Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you got your Timer."

He grinned as he pressed his cheek against the top of her head. "Me too."

* * *

 _A/N: as many, many, many of you pointed out, I was using the show premiere date not the book singing meet date for their Timer dates in previous parts of this story, so there you go :)_

 _Still to come: Always, Number One Fan, Flowers for Your Grave_

 _(last chapter I incorrectly said Child's Play, but I meant Number One Fan, just had my 4th episode wires crossed - sorry for the confusion)_


	6. Set: Always

**A/N: Set at the end of "Always"**

* * *

Standing in his office facing the oversized television screen turned digital whiteboard, Richard Castle could still feel his hands trembling just as they had been for the prior two hours. The two fingers of scotch he'd thrown back earlier had helped; they'd dulled his rage from burning fury to seething. He knew two more fingers would lower him still to the point of devastation, but he wasn't ready for that quite yet; he wished to remain at seething a little longer.

He couldn't believe it—he honestly could not believe how she was acting. It made him sick. She made him feel like the past four years hadn't mattered at all and he _never_ would have expected that from her.

God, what a mess.

He was in love with her. They had been through so much together and made it through to the other side— _together_ —and he thought that meant something. He thought that meant that they were supposed to be together. Timer be damned. He didn't need a Timer to tell him that Kate Beckett was the love of his life. Hell, he'd stopped thinking about the damn thing affixed to his wrist months ago.

The worst part was he had felt this way before—two months prior when he found out Kate had heard his graveyard confession and chose to ignore it. He'd been hurt—crushed, really—and ready to end their partnership, but just over a week earlier she'd flipped his world upside down again for the hundredth time. She was going to therapy and she had told him that she was almost in a place where she could accept everything that happened to her that day in the cemetery. _Everything—_ she'd repeated it twice. And he thought—god he was sure he understood. Sure that they were on the same page this time, but then! Then!

He knew as soon as the sentence exited his mouth he was in for something negative from her. Kate Beckett didn't do so well when called out on things—particularly those things that involved her heart. He'd expected her to yell and hedge if not completely ignore what he'd said but instead…oh, instead she'd thrown it in his face, questioned his trust, and accused him of treating her like a child.

Was keeping information from her like that a good thing to do? In an ideal world, no, but it was a decision he made in the hopes of keeping her safe and it was one he'd make again and again. When it came to her mother's case, Kate's self-preservation instincts seemed to vanish. Their argument that night only served to confirm his decision. If he hadn't kept the information from her, she would have dove headlong into the case months earlier and would not have even lived that long. And now…now…

God he was so furious with her—and hurt. Hurt that she didn't love him enough to consider the future she would be destroying. There would be no _them_ —not now. Not with her living on borrowed time. And that made him so angry—she was throwing her life away for what? A fight she could never win.

He wanted her to find her mother's killer—truly, he did. And if spending millions of dollars and searching into far corners of the earth would have solved the case he would have done those things—no questions asked, but if four years of working with Kate and her team had taught him one thing it was that not every case was solvable. Was it a terrible fate that one of the cases she couldn't solve was the one that mattered most to her? Of course, but picking and choosing which cases to solve wasn't an option.

Though he understood that he was a third party observer in the situation, Castle wanted more than anything for Kate to focus on what she did have and what could be hers. If she had walked away from the case that night—the one that had killed Montgomery, Raglan, and so many others—if she had chosen him they would have had a future together. Love, laughter and probably even a family. The worst part was such a choice was not exclusive. If she had chosen him, it did not mean they would never solve her mother's case, but she hadn't seen that or she had chosen not to.

As his eyes grazed over the information he'd acquired on his search to bring Beckett's mother's murderer to justice, Castle's wallowing was interrupted by a high-pitched beeping noise. He looked down at the television remote in his hand confused, as though he'd accidentally squeezed it too hard and pressed a button, but the remote didn't beep. His cell phone didn't make that noise either. Strange.

Just as he was wondering where the sound could have possibly come from, he gazed down at his wrist. With his shirt sleeves rolled up, the Timer embedded just below the bottom of his hand was clearly visible and it no longer displayed dashes as it had for so many years. Now, nine zeros stared back at him.

 _Shit_.

So that was it: the final twist of the knife in his gut. His soulmate—whoever she was—had impeccable timing, didn't she?

For nearly two years Castle believed that only once incident would change his Timer from dashes to zeros and that was the moment that Kate Beckett received hers, presumably with him at her side. They'd spoken about her lack of one only a few times and she confessed to not seeing the point of the device. At one point, she went on about corporate manipulation, but he saw through the shield she wore just like those walls she built around herself. She didn't want a Timer because while she had the walls she wasn't ready for love, and he was fine with that. He also believed he could change her mind.

Staring down at his wrist, all Rick could think was that for the prior four years he'd dedicated himself to Kate Beckett and now, in the blink of an eye, he'd discovered what a fucking waste that had been. She didn't love him. She didn't value his love for her or their partnership. And now, it seemed, she wasn't even his soulmate.

Still enraged by her foolish decision, Castle wasn't even upset. He knew in the coming days he would be—he would grieve for the relationship they would never have, as it was something he wanted with every fiber of his being. Then, after a great deal of wallowing, he would pick himself up and move on. He would give Nikki Heat the final sendoff she deserved—it was, after all, not her fault her that her inspiration turned out to be—

No. No he wouldn't do that. He would not drag Kate through the mud simply because her feelings did not match his own. No matter how she felt about him, she was still an incredible person, one he was better for knowing. Even if they never saw each other again, he would never regret the time they had together and he would think of her highly—once his rage died down, anyway. They just weren't meant for each other, so it was a chapter of his life he needed to close in order to move on to the next.

Gazing back at his wrist once more, Rick decided maybe another bit of scotch would do him some good; it would dull the ache in his heart at least for a little while.

He crossed over to the dry bar, poured a half inch into his glass, and then returned to the television screen. He needed a fresh start. He needed to move on and that started by removing aspects of Kate Beckett from his life.

With a deep inhale, he reached out to the smartboard screen and dragged the Johanna Beckett case file towards the recycling bin. He paused with his finger hovering just over the trash icon for several seconds before moving it closer and letting go. With the file gone, he shut off the screen and turned away from it. Taking his glass with him, he crossed into the living area while wondering what kind of ice cream went with scotch.

He'd only been staring into the freezer for a few moments when he heard the knock at his apartment door. Castle's first reaction was annoyance. Didn't whoever that was understand he wanted to wallow alone? Hoping it was someone he could dismiss quickly, he abandoned his drink on the counter and walked to the front door. Gazing out the peephole, he was shocked to see the detective, her hair dripping wet as it framed her face. Grumbling to himself, he placed his hand on the door knob. What the hell was she doing here? If she wanted his help, she was too late; he wasn't going to aid her in the destruction of her life.

Pulling open the door with one smooth motion he began, "Beckett what-" only to be interrupted by a persistent beeping noise. It had the same tone as the previous noise, but went on several seconds longer. Perplexed, Castle gazed down at his wrist to see the zeroed out numbers were no longer black, but green; they were also no longer zeros. A date three and a half years in the past displayed instead; a date that was the same date as—

Oh god.

His brow wrinkled as he looked up at the detective, who gazed at him as steadily as ever.

"You." She breathed out. "I want you. My soulmate." With that, she stepped forward, cupped his face with her hands, and pressed their lips together.

Too stunned to react, Castle remained frozen until she pulled back, pressed their foreheads together and began pleading out apologies. His brain still struggled to comprehend until her lips were back on his again and he gained enough sense to grab her wrist and push her away so she could provide some semblance of an explanation.

"No; wait. What…what happened?"

She blinked up at him. "He got away and I didn't care. I almost died and all I think about was you." She shook her head gently and brushed her thumb over his cheek. "All I could think about was how I hurt you and made you think that I didn't care. That's the opposite of what's true but I knew how upset you were so I thought maybe a big gesture would be the way to go."

He took in a breath though this nose. "You got a Timer?" When she nodded, he turned her right arm so he could see her wrist, see that it displayed the same date as his. Even though he'd heard the noise, he still wasn't convinced until he saw the dates match.

"So we're…"

"Did you think that we weren't?"

He shook his head. "I did when it changed to zeros, because I was so, so upset with you."

She lowered her eyes shamefully. "I know and I'm sorry for that—for hiding the truth of what I remembered from my shooting, for letting you think for one second that I might not feel the same, for pushing you away and not being honest." Looking back up to him she continued with, "Mostly I'm sorry for tonight. I've been letting my fear cloud my consideration for you for so long I thought I was finally over that, but I guess I have a little more work to do. What I can tell you is that I get it now. It's not just about me, it's about us—you and me. If you'll accept my apology, that is."

Castle was nearly overwhelmed with the emotions swirling inside his mind. He had been so angry but now that fury was replaced with relief and, growing larger by the second, joy. Kate Beckett was his soulmate—his gut had been right all along. Now she stood in front of him, asking for forgiveness, saying that she was ready and if she'd gone out and purchased a Timer maybe she finally was.

"Ah yeah—yes," he said with a soft smile. "Apology accepted." He was still hurt, but he also knew that he would accept a genuine apology from anyone he loved because they deserved that consideration.

A relieved expression crossed Kate's face and she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his chest. He happily pulled her in and hugged her back as the excitement in his chest began to bubble over. "Soulmates…soulmates! We're soulmates Beckett!"

She laughed against him. "Yeah I know."

"I know! I know! I'm just so—wait." He moved his hands to her shoulders so he could gently extract her from their embrace. Staring down at her curiously he said, "Did you mention something about almost dying."

"Yes, but it's not important."

She tried to lean back into him but he stopped her. "Pretty sure that's important; really important." When he said nothing, he tilted his head and coaxed, "Kate c'mon. Please tell me."

She sighed and walked a bit further into the apartment. He shut the door and followed her, his heart rate speeding in fear of the pending story.

"I fought with him—we were on a rooftop. I…I don't even know what happened, but flipped over and all of a sudden I found myself hanging off the edge of the building, my grip was slipping and I thought…this is it; this is how I die."

She turned back around to look at him and Castle felt a sharp pain course through his chest. God, he'd come so close to losing her—so close. "What happened next?"

She brought her hands up to rake through her hair. "I was so angry at myself—so angry—because it was my fault. If I died you wouldn't have known how I felt about you, we would have never had the chance to be together and in that moment I knew—nothing else in my life mattered except you, us. I started calling out for you because I thought I heard you looking for me but…it was Ryan who pulled me up."

"Remind me to buy him a Ferrari."

Kate cracked a small smile at his joke. "I'm so sorry Castle."

He shook off her apology. "You're here now, aren't you?" She nodded and he reached out his arm, dragging her in closer. When their lips met, he skimmed his hand back across her neck and fisted it into her hair. It was then he realized not just how wet it was, but cold. Actually her whole body was cold—freezing even.

Reluctant to stop kissing her, but concerned for her wellbeing, Castle hummed as he pulled back from their kiss. "C'mon; let's get you into some dry clothes."

She shook her head. "It's okay. I don't need them. Do I?"

Castle swallowed hard at the fire in her gaze. Shit, she was gorgeous—perfect. He loved her so much and now they were finally going to—god. His body trembled in anticipation. Skimming his thumb across her neck until it landed in the hollow of her throat he breathed out, "Ah, no; no, I suppose you don't."

Smiling, she reached out and took his hand. "Didn't think so." With that, she pulled him towards the bedroom.

* * *

 _A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to all the Americans!_

 _The remaining list of Timer inserts has changed slightly. This is the new (and seriously final!) list in posting order:_

 _Nikki Heat_

 _Pre-Series AU Meet_

 _Number One Fan_

 _Flowers for Your Grave (which will be in 3 parts)_


	7. Set: Nikki Heat

**A/N: Set in the middle of the episode "Nikki Heat"**

* * *

Dragging her teeth over her bottom lip, Kate folded her arms almost painfully tight as she gazed through the lunchroom windows to watch Natalie—now officially known as "Creepy Beckett"—peruse the murder board. God, how had her life become this? Worst of all—it was her own fault. _She_ had let Natalie shadow her, thinking it would be funny, but she definitely wasn't laughing.

Recalling their conversation from moments earlier, Kate was borderline nauseated and disturbed. Verbal masturbation? God, she didn't want to think of Castle that way. She wasn't an idiot or that oblivious—she knew he had a schoolboy crush on her and she was fine with that. Hell, she even encouraged him at times just because it was what they did—they harmlessly flirted with one another. But harmless flirtation was quite a far jump from—no, she wouldn't think of it, because it didn't matter. She didn't like Castle—not in that way. Natalie was wrong not to mention completely out of line. It really was ridiculous because he—

"Everything okay?"

Kate jumped, startled when the man in question came up behind her so stealthily. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose and narrowed her eyes in Natalie's direction once more. As she paced in front of the murder board, Kate cringed. "Do I really do that?"

"Yes, and its adorable."

The detective scoffed as she was reminded of the last glimpse of the writer she'd had the prior evening—when Natalie was wrapping herself around him and he didn't seem to be putting up much of a fight. "If it's so adorable why didn't you sleep with me? Her 'me', not me 'me.'" She had been convinced— _convinced—_ that the writer had slept with Natalie. Why wouldn't he? He and Gina were off-again and Natalie was beautiful—not that she cared. She was with Josh so obviously it did not matter to her one bit who Castle pulled into his bed….

…or so she told herself.

"Oh. A fictional character that I wrote based on you played by Natalie? That's just way too meta."

Kate turned around to examine the writer's expression as she was not entirely sure what the word "meta" meant, but before she could ask Montgomery poked his head into the breakroom and requested they join him in the bullpen. Once she stood beside her desk along with Ryan and Esposito, their captain began to speak.

"Ok boys and girls I have a very exciting announcement for today-"

"Even more exciting than me?" Natalie chimed in with a bold grin.

Montgomery eyed her as though he had forgotten she was there. "Ah…yeah. The folks from the Timer Company are coming here to give out discounted Timers to all NYPD employees who don't already have them."

As a mixture of cheers and groans filled the room, Ryan turned to the writer with a grin. "There you go Castle—oh wait you're not an employee."

"He doesn't need the discounted price either," snipped Kate as the writer twisted his lips into an unpleasant expression.

He eyed her carefully. "Fair enough…but maybe I should get one, anyway."

She snorted. "Yeah maybe I should, too." Back in the early days of their partnership when simply the act of her partner breathing annoyed Kate, she was surprised to discover that on one subject they had nearly identical opinions: neither of them liked Timers. They both found Timers to be a rather silly, Millennial-fueled fad that would not catch on. The only difference in their thoughts remained that Castle debated the scientific and physiological properties of the device whereas Kate simply thought it was stupid. Two years later, their opinions hadn't changed much and both maintained they would not be getting one of the devices.

Folding his arms over his chest, the writer cocked his head as he looked at her. "You won't."

It sounded like a challenge and Kate felt her belly clench at his judgmental expression. "How do you know that?"

"Because you won't, Beckett."

"What if I do?"

"I will if you will."

"Fine," she said, too caught up in the moment to weigh the consequences. Besides, the damn thing wouldn't work anyway. Last she heard they still had a thirty percent failure rate, even with the latest version of the device.

"Fine."

* * *

"Hey I have a question—why doesn't Nikki Heat have a Timer?"

Castle tore his gaze away from the rather unhappy looking detective getting hooked up to the Timer installation machine to the wig-wearing actress beside him. "Oh. Well, when I first started the stories a few years ago Timers were quite new; people didn't really have them and I wasn't sure if they would grow or fade away. I didn't want the story to be dated, so Nikki doesn't have one." Plus, he added inside his own mind, he didn't have a Timer and neither did Kate at the time the story started. It honestly never even entered his mind.

"But what about now?"

He nodded, considering. Timers did seem like they were around to stay, so adding them in to the story could open a potential avenue for a sub-plot. "I suppose I could add it in. I mean-"

"Ah—jeez!"

Castle was interrupted by the yelp of the female detective as her Timer was affixed to her wrist. Grimacing since he was next in line, he covered his right wrist with his left hand and asked, "Hurt Beckett?"

She stood from the chair, cradling her right hand in her left with a frown. "Kind of."

"What's it stay?" Ryan, the only member of the quartet to already be in possession of a Timer, asked.

"Dashes."

He nodded. "Not surprising given how few people over thirty have them."

Kate turned to Castle. "All right writer boy—your turn."

He cringed. "Oh…actually…"

"Castle!"

He laughed since he had been teasing her—of course! "Kidding." After taking Beckett's seat, the Timer representative worked quickly to input his information and then install the device on his wrist. He tried to "man up" and not gripe about the pain like Beckett had, but he ended up yelping louder than she did. Damn, that really did sting. He stared intently at his wrist as the Timer booted up until finally its display registered. "Zeros."

"What does that mean?" Esposito asked.

"His mate has a Timer and they've already met," the Timer representative said.

Already met her? Well, that meant only tens of thousands classified given how many public appearances he made over the years. "Wonder who she could be…"

"Bet she's a fan." Natalie chimed in.

A smile on his face, Castle looked up. "Yeah? You think she-"

The exact moment that Castle moved his gaze from Natalie to Kate, a beeping sound filled the room. It was so loud that it startled him and he had no idea what it was until he saw the numbers on the newly implanted Timer flashing green. Had he…matched? With—oh god! "B-Beckett?" he wondered aloud, but the woman in question had gone white as a sheet.

"Oh my gosh!" Natalie squealed. "They're matched! Nikki and Rook matched—in real life! Wow. Now I'm glad I didn't sleep with him."

While Natalie beamed with pride, Kate practically evaporated from her spot, turning and shoving her way out of the accumulated crowd as quickly as she could. Castle called out for her, but it was too late; she definitely wasn't coming back any time soon, which left him to stare dumbly at their two male partners.

"Oh boy." Ryan sighed out.

"Yeah…" The writer grumbled; this was definitely not how he saw the afternoon going. Shit—he had to challenge her to get the Timer; had to push her buttons. What a fool he was…barely broken up with Gina a few days and now—shit! She was still with that doctor, wasn't she? God, what a mess.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up from his seat and chased after her, hoping she wouldn't slug him when he finally caught up to her.

"Kate…"

The detective did not acknowledge the voice of her partner when he caught up to her in the breakroom; she was too busy pacing back and forth in front of the coffee maker like a caged lion. "Oh my god, on my god." She muttered. She couldn't believe it—she honestly could not believe it. Castle—Richard Castle—was her Timer-mate? She had halfway expected hers to be in the thirty percent that didn't work at all but this—this! She had never expected this.

* * *

"Kate…"

That time, his voice did manage to stop her pacing and she stared up at him, her chest still heaving. "I…I…oh god, Castle—everyone was there; they all know!"

He flattened his lips and spoke solemnly. "Think they would have figured it out anyway."

She groaned and refused to acknowledge that he was right. "God this is a disaster! I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Let me…no way!" the writer responded, his voice firm. "You agreed; I didn't force your hand. Don't pin this all on me just because you're not happy with the results."

His words stung her like freezing rain nipping at her face. Oh no that wasn't…that wasn't how she felt at all. "I—I'm not. I mean: I'm not unhappy with the results." She clarified at his furrowed brow. "I…I'm surprised, but I'm not unhappy. This is…this is the worst possible timing—you have to see that. I'm with Josh and you and Gina-"

"We're broken up."

"But just barely." She pointed out. Her tone softened as she took a step towards him. "Even still you…you're a great partner and a good friend so there are definitely worse people I could have been matched with."

"Um…thanks?" he said, though he didn't sound very grateful at all.

She laughed. "You're welcome." Perhaps it was not the kindest thing she could have said to him, but in her shock it was the best she could do, because it was honestly how she felt. Natalie had been right; she did have feelings for the writer, but those feelings could at best be described as complicated. Could the way she felt about him be romantic? Yes, she could see that—one day, but they weren't there yet; they needed time. "How, um, how do you feel about this?"

A slow, steady smile cross his face. "Oh, Kate, you know I think you're extraordinary."

Her cheeks blushing, she averted her eyes. "Yeah I may have read that somewhere…"

"Well, you are and I think this is—wait. What does six-twelve-four mean?"

Kate looked back to him to see him examining his wrist with a wrinkled brow. "What?"

"My Timer—it says six-twelve-four. What does yours say?

"Uh…" She pulled up her shirt sleeve again to see the metal implant and find it displayed exactly as he said: 06.12.04. "The same."

"But…I thought it was supposed to be the date we…fell in love or something."

She furrowed her brow, staring down at the numbers. The date was clearly in the past, so it didn't mark the date they fell in love. Besides, that didn't sound completely right to her. If it was a date that meant it was June—June of 2004, and that—oh! "No, I know—it's the day we met."

"Um…no it's not…" he said, sounding thoroughly confused.

"Yes it is. It's—oh. Never mind." She added quickly. Crap, she didn't want to have to explain that to the writer! Not then!

"No, not 'never mind'! What do you know about this? Where was it? On the subway? Did you know it was me you met?"

She groaned and raked her fingers through her hair before turning to face him reluctantly. "It was…at Barnes & Noble; you were doing a book signing."

Castle's befuddled expression slowly melted into one of extreme amusement. "You…went to one of my book signings? Kate, did you get a book signed?"

With great reluctance she mumbled, "Yes."

"Which one?"

"And old Derrick Storm."

"You're kidding."

"No."

"What did I say to you?"

She scuffed the toe of her boot across the floor. "I dunno; it was years ago."

"Kate. What did I say to you?"

She gazed at him from beneath her brow line. "Nothing…you just asked my name and signed my book. I…I was going to thank you for—for…something, but the person I now know to be Gina was hurrying the line along so fast that I never got a chance to."

He stepped up beside her. "What were you going to thank me for?"

"Nothing."

"Kate."

"You're books helped me, that's all. Get through my mother's death…the aftermath…make sense of things…" She fought the urge to cringe as the words exited her lips. God, what was wrong with her? Did the Timer come with some sort of truth serum?

Instead of teasing her or cracking a joke, the writer merely smiled and said, "I'm going to hug you now," before doing exactly that. Kate didn't shy away and placed her hands gently on his back as he squeezed her tight. When he pulled back he said, "Thanks for telling me."

"You didn't give me much choice." She grumbled at him.

"Fair enough. You can take your time, though—ending things with Josh and being ready for us. I won't rush you. I'll just…I'll be here when you're ready."

"I…thanks." She smiled genuinely at him, for time to adjust was exactly what she had been about to request.

He winked at her. "Always, Kate; always."

* * *

 _A/N: thanks for reading & reviewing - so glad you are enjoying these!_

 _Also thanks to Travis for the new cover art!_


	8. Set: Number One Fan

**Setting: beginning of Number One Fan**

* * *

"I don't know what to do." Kate groaned as she shoved her face down into her pillow. "What am I supposed to do, Castle?"

"I have some ideas."

Kate turned her head so she could direct one eye towards her fiancé. "We're not having sex all day every day."

Only two days had passed since she was fired from the FBI and Castle must have suggested they spend their days having sex marathons no less than a dozen times. The first few times she figured he was only doing so to get her to smile. She had been quite down. Even though she knew she did the right thing and would do so again if presented the option, getting fired was not something she reveled in, particularly since she was also unable to get her job back with the NYPD due to a hiring freeze. After the fifth time he suggested it, though, her amusement wore off and annoyance took its place.

Castle turned his head to the side. "I didn't say every day, just most days."

She rolled her eyes at his smirk and went to turn away from him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"No, wait—I do have a serious suggestion that does not involve sex."

"Okay."

"Why don't we go and get your Timer? You said you were going to get one after we got engaged and you've been so busy with your job in DC we never had a chance…"

Kate smiled gently at the idea. She would not have thought of it, but he was entirely right—it was time she acquired a Timer and that day seemed just as good as any.

To Castle's credit, he had been very respectful of her lack of Timer throughout their relationship, even if he didn't agree with her choice. Back in the early days of their budding partnership he did ask her incessantly about it until she'd yelled at him and said that she didn't have a Timer because she didn't want one, and told him to drop the subject. He obliged and didn't bring it up again until they were officially together and spending their first weekend together at his Hamptons home. He'd asked her if she would get a Timer, she told him no, and he looked slightly hurt, so she further explained that she didn't need or want one because she was happy with him and no hunk of metal affixed to her wrist would change that.

Castle dropped the subject for several months before bringing it up once more—that time after she'd been standing on the pressure-plate that would trigger a bomb for several hours. Her exhaustion had lowered her defenses, so when he asked about her lack of Timer, she'd explained that she initially had not wanted one because she did not want to relinquish control of her life to any one or any thing, including a Timer. However, now that they had been together for nine months, she was concerned that if she got a Timer and they weren't a match it would ruin everything, and she didn't want to give up what they had, because she loved him. "You don't have to get a Timer, Kate, but I am one hundred percent certain there is no way that we are not matches; it's just not possible," he'd said. She'd hummed out that maybe she'd get one someday simply to end the conversation so she could sleep and he asked, "Before we're married?" so she said, "Sure, Castle; when we're engaged I'll get a Timer."

She hardly even remembered making the comment later and thought for certain she would never have to act on it until the night of their engagement when he seemed quite insistent that she get one _right that second_. She told him she'd get one soon and distracted him with sex, and then traveling back and forth to DC had completely distracted her, but now, facing a day with a completely empty schedule, getting a Timer did not seem to be the worst idea. They had a rough time being separated the prior few months, but in the end it had only made their relationship stronger to the point where she agreed with Castle; they were definitely matches, so why not make it official?

"Okay."

His expression brightened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah let's do it."

* * *

"Thanks again for doing this, Kate." Castle said as they waited for the Timer office to open that morning. He had been so enthused that he'd practically jumped from the bed to the shower and encouraged her to do the same so they'd arrived shortly before the shop's nine a.m. opening.

As he made it sound as though she was getting the Timer as a favor for him, she shook her head. "There's no need to thank me; I'm doing this for us—our family."

Were she not in a relationship with Richard Castle, Kate wasn't sure she would ever get a Timer. Maybe, but only if her partner motivated her to do so—just like Castle had done. Years earlier when he'd been bothering her about the object, she had asked him just what made him think the Timer was so special, and he'd launched into a story about having to go to school and interact with kids whose parents were Timer matches and how sad it made him. His mother remained unmatched and since she didn't even know his father's name, the odds of them becoming matched were virtually impossible. That was not a fate he wished to pass on to his own children, but yet he inadvertently had since he was not a match with Meredith. Thus, he confessed to wanting his next marriage to be with his mate so that they could have the family he'd always wanted. Though she'd brushed off the story at the time, it had stuck with her, and it was one of the main reasons she even entertained the idea of getting a Timer at all; she wanted to give that family to him.

Three minutes later, when the store opened, she and Castle were taken immediately back to one of the Timer implanting rooms. Kate gave her name, birthdate, and the other necessary information while the Timer employee, an auburn haired girl who wore a nametag imported with "Rachel," prepared the machine.

"So how long have you two been a couple?" Rachel asked.

Kate let out a breathy laugh, unsure of how to answer the question as it was quite complex. Officially? A year and a few months, but unofficially it felt like much longer.

"A while," Castle answered for her, "but we're engaged now."

Rachel smiled at each of them. "That's sweet." Turning to Kate, she held up the Timer implantation device. "You know how this works right? We implant the Timer and it'll either display a countdown clock, zeros, or dashes."

"Yes, I understand."

"Okay! Here we go."

With very little hesitation or warning, Rachel clamped the device around Kate's right wrist and pulled the trigger. Kate grunted out with pain and she felt her fiancé's hand land on her shoulder. Well, that had been a bit more uncomfortable than she would have liked, but certainly paled in comparison to a bullet to the chest.

"You okay?"

"Fine." She replied, her eyes fixated on the spot on her arm which now held a metal bar that looked much sleeker than the one affixed to her partner's wrist. Newer model, she presumed—by over two decades.

"So let me just update this here…" Rachel taped on the keypad of the nearby computer and a moment later the Timer in Kate's wrist chirped. Glancing down at it, Rachel said, "All zeros," and smiled at Kate. "I'll give you two the room."

Once Rachel was gone, Kate brushed her left thumb over the device and winced; the skin surrounding it was still a bit tender. Glazing her eyes over the nine zeros she asked her partner, "Did yours zero out, too, Castle?" Per the rules of the Timer, the moment hers was activated, the Timer of her soulmate would change from dashes to zeros.

"Yes," he said as he took a knee in front of the chair on which she sat. Kate could just see him through her peripheral vision, but kept her eyes fixed on her Timer for just another few seconds before turning to face him and hearing the delightful—if not slightly stringent—sounds of their Timers going off.

They shared a breathy laugh and a smile before Kate leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I love you." She sighed against his ear.

He kissed her neck. "I love you, too."

* * *

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, her fiancé—and soulmate—just behind her, Kate dusted her finger over the Timer displaying a date from the summer of 2004; the day she met Richard Castle for the very first time. He, of course, knew about their inaugural meeting, but only recently, when she'd sheepishly confessed it one night, concerned about how he'd react. He had been joyful, but restrained the pinker her cheeks became. She had been such a different person back then and she had him to thank for bringing out the best Kate Beckett she could possibly be.

"So, what should we do for the rest of the day—other than have a sex marathon," she added preemptively.

He reached out and picked up her right hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing just above where the Timer was located. "We can do whatever you want. We have the rest of our lives to have sex marathons."

She chuckled. "Well, in that case—oh." The ring of her cell phone interrupted Kate's thought. When she pulled it from her pocket she was surprised to see the name of her former boss displayed on the Caller ID screen. "It's Gates…"

Castle's eyes flashed with excitement as she answered the call. "Offering you your job back!?" he proclaimed hopefully.

She merely shrugged. "Beckett...yes he's...right here... she wants to talk to you," she said as she held out the device with wrinkled brow.

He took it with a matching expression. "Maybe she's offering me my job back. Captain, how may I be of service? I...oh i see. Well yeah we can...okay. See you soon."

"What was that about?" Kate asked when he handed back the phone.

Grinning, Castle slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards the street where he held out his arm to hail a cap. "We have a case."

"What? Wow?"

He merely grinned. "I'll explain on the way-c'mon!"

* * *

 _A/N: small adjustment to my previously stated posting order. I will be posting the AU/pre-series meet next, but it will be in 2 parts because its quite long_

 _Thanks!_


	9. Set: AUPre-Series (Pt 1)

**Setting: AU/Pre-Series meet (Part 1 of 2)**

* * *

Shifting her weight from her right foot to her left, Kate Beckett skimmed her hand nervously up and down the smooth spine of the book she cradled against her chest. The line inside Barnes & Nobles was coiled around bookshelves and small seating areas and densely packed due to the volume of people. For the prior hour she had not had much room to move other than shifting her weight side to side. Fortunately, the man of the hour had arrived fifteen minutes earlier and thus slow but steady progress in moving the line forward had begun.

As she moved six inches forward, Kate gazed down at her book and tried to smooth down the crimped top edge of the dustcover. She had considered having the author sign one of his newly released Derrick Storm novels—that was, after all, the purpose of the signing event—but she wanted his signature in the original; the one she had read time and time again, dog-earing the pages and grazing her eyes over the words that meant so much. She had asked two different employees running the event just to make sure that he would sign an older book and not just a brand new one and they had confirmed; Richard Castle would sign any book that was his.

God, Richard Castle; she was really about to meet Richard Castle. He was really there, just a few dozen feet from her. She had seen him walk in through the back of the store, grinning and waving to the crowd that cheered upon his arrival. Upon first sight of him she'd been struck by his height and rugged handsomeness. Now, as the line moved forward again, her heart slammed even harder against her ribcage.

Silly—it was really quite silly that she was feeling _this_ nervous to meet Richard Castle. He was just a person and generally meeting new people didn't bother her at all, but Richard Castle was not just any person. He was a man whose words had touched her and gave her something to hold on to when absolutely nothing in her world made sense. From the interviews she had read and seen he seemed to be a kind and genuine man. She wanted a chance to thank him in person for his books and what they had done for her, but she also didn't want him to think she was…well, silly.

Twenty minutes later Kate had migrated so far up in the line that she could see the writer and his blonde companion, presumably an agent or manager, at a table just a few feet away. He smiled, shook hands, and signed book after book, hardly pausing for a moment, but always sounding pleasant and welcoming to those that had patiently waited for their turn.

Kate studied each person's interaction, making sure she knew the procedure to follow lest she embarrass herself; she had never received anyone's autograph before, so this was all very new. When her turn came, she placed her Derrick Storm novel on the table and opened the front cover, sliding it towards him carefully so that the jacket did not rip or shift out of place.

"Oh—a classic Derrick—nice choice."

His baritone voice cause tingles to sprout at the back of her neck when directed at her. "It's the first one I read." She told him gently.

She could see him smile as his Sharpie-holding left hand skirted across the title page. "Excellent. And your name is?"

"Ka-Kate Beckett." Her voice cracked on the end of the last syllable of her name and she cringed internally—so much for not embarrassing herself.

"Well, it's nice to-"

The moment the writer's eyes lifted from the book he signed and met hers, a distinct beeping noise filled Kate's ears. She initially had no idea what the sound was and assumed it was coming from the watch alarm of someone in the nearby crowd, but when Castle dropped his Sharpie and flipped his hand over, she gasp and immediately understood.

The writer's Timer was going off which meant—oh god!

"What's going on? Did someone's Timer go off?" Kate heard from behind her.

"Yes—yes! This girl right here—she's Richard Castle's match!"

 _Oh god!_

"I…" Kate began stupidly, but no word came out. She still locked eyes with the writer, but he appeared equally stunned as she.

As their moment persisted beyond the one minute mark, the crowd continued to buzz with the new information.

"Timer mates? Really? Isn't he married?"

"Oh my goodness—this is so exciting!"

"Jessica—quick! Get a picture of me with Richard Castle and his Timer-mate!"

The flashbulb that filled the room a second later felt like an electric shock to the back of Kate's neck. She sucked in a breath, whipped around and hurried towards the exit, any thought of her original Derrick Storm now forgotten. She heard someone call out her name and thought it might have been the man of the hour, but she couldn't be certain and didn't want to wait around to find out.

* * *

Three days later as Kate sat at her newly acquired desk in the Twelfth Precinct's homicide division she was still trying to make sense of the events of Monday evening.

Richard Castle was her Timer-mate. _Richard Castle_ was her Timer-mate.

No matter how many times she told herself, it still didn't make any sense.

Over half a decade earlier, when her mother had been brutally murdered seemingly at random, Kate had given up on the concept of Timers and love. As far as she was concerned, she could live in a world where neither existed and she would be fine with that. She had blocked off her Timer and rarely if ever thought about it from that point forward.

Considering the fact that upwards of seventy percent of people in her age range had Timers, it was impossible for Kate to operate completely under the guise that they did not exist. Inevitably she caught snippets of conversation of people discussing their Timer-mates or the counting down clock on their wrist as it drew ever-nearer to zero. For the most part, she tried to ignore them, and had her wrist not signaled upon sight of Richard Castle, she probably would have gone on ignoring Timers for many years.

Richard Castle—of all the people in the world! It couldn't be her mailman, barista, coworker, or—hell—even a suspect. No, it had to be the man she was already flustered in the presence of.

Kate was not proud of the fact that she had sprinted away from the man in question without saying one coherent word, but it had been a fight-or-flight response, especially once the hum of the watching crowd grew louder. The last thing she wanted was excess attention, but when it came to a subject she wished not to participate in? She had been mortified!

Her paperwork abandoned, Kate leaned her elbows against the edge of the desk, raked her fingers through her hair, and rested that way for several moments as the unpleasant memories of the day in question flashed through her mind. What a mess. Worst of all, had lost her…

 _..book?_!

Kate gasped when the object in question slid carefully in front of her face, nudging against the edge of her keyboard. There it was: her original Derrick Storm with the crinkled front cover at all.

Sitting quickly upright, Kate whipped her head to the left to find a six-foot-one man with flopping brown hair and a sheepish little smile. Her jaw dropped several inches.

No way—this was not possible. Richard Castle was not standing beside her desk. No, she was definitely hallucinating. Or so she thought until he said simply, "Hi."

Did hallucinations speak?

"Wh—what are you doing here?"

He smiled. "Had to return that, didn't I? Seems like you read it more than a few times; didn't want you to be without."

"Wha…." She croaked out a noise that was not quite a question. Eyes wide, she looked down at the book and then back at him before, suddenly, as though she had recently discovered there were piranhas swimming at her feet, she jumped up and took a half step back from him. "H-How'd you find me?"

"Google. Searched your name and found an article about you making detective—congratulations by the way. Youngest female in NYPD history; that's impressive."

"Th-thank you."

He nodded and slid his hands down into his pockets. "Anyway, ah, I'm friends with the mayor, who got me in touch with the commissioner and he got me in touch with your captain—Montgomery, right? I told him our situation and he was all too happy to let me know when your next shift was."

"Really," she said in a tone that was somewhere in between a statement and a question.

The writer smiled. "Really. So, ah," he paused to glance around the immediate area, hustling and bustling with uniforms and detectives alike, "would it be possible for us to speak somewhere more privately? Maybe I could buy you a coffee."

"I…" Her voice drifted off as she gazed down at her computer screen, her brain still trying to process what was happening. "I'm still on shift for two more hours."

"I can come back." He offered.

"O-okay." She heard herself agreeing, almost before her brain had made the decision.

"Perfect. I'll see you in two hours, Kate."

As he walked away, Kate gazed down at her newly returned book with no small amount of disbelief. She had honestly half expected to never see him—or her book—again. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she reached out her hand to touch the book's cover as though it may or may not be a pressure trigger to a bomb. Her fingers curled over the lip of the cover and pulled it open to reveal the signature she had watched him complete only now it also continued a message written in block letters.

 _Looking forward to a lifetime of getting to know you_

Shit! What was happening?

Delicately, Kate sat back down in her seat and stared wide-eyed at the clock on her computer, completely unsure of whether or not she wanted the next two hours to go by quickly or very, very slowly.

* * *

"And here is your latte."

"Thank you," the woman before him said demurely.

Richard Castle slid into the high stool across from her and set his espresso down on the table. "Thank you for meeting me." He countered. "I, um, just wanted to start by saying that it's nice to meet you—I didn't get a chance to say that before you ran off the other day."

Her cheeks flushed. "Sorry about that I just…I didn't expect…you know."

"What?"

"The timer to…go off."

Castle's brow wrinkled. "But…how? You saw it zero out, right?"

She let out a breathy laugh and pulled up her right shirt sleeve to display her inner wrist in his direction. "Nope."

Shocked, the writer gaped down at what appeared to be a silver, non-metallic covering overtop of her implanted timer. "What is that? Duct tape?"

"Yeah."

He leaned back from the table and considered this. Well, it did almost explain why she had practically evaporated before him the moment their Timers went off—kind of. "Why?"

She shrugged and sipped her drink. "Just because."

The writer hummed, not sure of what to make of her. For the prior three days his life had centered around one specific person without even knowing who she was.

Kate Beckett.

If he had known the moment she said her name he might have savored it more, tried to memorize the way it sounded when it left her lips. _Kate Beckett_.

Instead, he'd been frantically trying to figure out how to spell it as he scratched it down on a spare sheet of paper after she sprinted from the building, his companion positively fuming beside him. He'd barely been able to get through the next hundred signatures as his attention was divided between the woman who he was meant to be with for the rest of his life, and the one he was legally bound to, who would inevitably begin to berate him the moment they were out of the public eye.

Three days later he had definitely been screamed at more than a few times, but sitting across from her he realized she was worth it. The hours of Googling, calling in favors and making pleas over the phone had paid off and he'd won an audience with her—his soulmate. She was completely beautiful, as he'd expected, though slightly younger than he anticipated—not that it mattered. The one article he'd managed to find on her told him that she was extraordinary and being matched with her meant he was lucky. Strangely, though, he did not think she felt the same.

"Well I did expect to meet my match at the signing, but when it started I got into the zone of it all so I sort of forgot." The beeping noise had started him quite thoroughly since he had been in his self-described "signing zone." A few weeks earlier, when he realized that his signing and the date on his wrist corresponded he'd been overwhelmed with joy—though forced to hide it. Was it a guarantee he'd meet his match at the signing? No, of course not; he could meet her on the subway on the way there or on the way home, but he just had a gut feeling. He'd thought about the potential during the first two or three signatures, but then he'd been too caught up in the speedy process until she stepped in front of him and everything changed.

Despite the fact that after over a decade he finally had a Timer that meant something, the moment was not without its complications. "The thing is: I'm actually married right now. The woman beside me yesterday—you might recall her: blonde, bit of an evil gaze—she's my agent and my wife."

The woman before him leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands in front of her, her tone turning very official—police-like. "Mr. Castle, if you're worried about me breaking up your marriage I assure you that's the furthest thing from what I want."

He shook his head and held his hand up apologetically. "No, no I didn't mean it like that and, please, call me Rick."

"My point is: just because our Timers matched doesn't have to mean anything. You don't have to feel…I don't know obligated to talk to me."

Castle's brow wrinkled. "Obligated to talk to you? That's a pretty strange way of referring to your soulmate." Strange—not to mention ridiculous. He didn't feel obligated to talk to her—he felt privileged! He wanted to talk to her for hours—get to who she was and everything about her life.

A derisive laugh escaped her lips. "Soulmate? No. Our Timers matched; that's different."

He blinked as though she had attempted to argue that the Earth did not orbit the sun. "I don't think it is."

She shrugged and took another sip of her drink. "But you're married to someone else so…moot point?"

He shook his head. They had barely met so he did not want to go into all the gory details, but he also wanted her to see that for him at that juncture being married was simply a formality. "No, not at all. Gina and I…well, we definitely shouldn't have gotten married, not with my Timer ticking down so quickly, but…it seemed the right thing to do at the time." Strangely, though, nearly two years later he could not quite recall what had possessed him to propose, let alone follow through with the wedding, even if it was a bit of a rushed event.

"Okay. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because we're-"

"We don't have to be anything. In fact," she said as she slid off the stood and shouldered her bag, "I don't want us to be; I have no interest being with a married man."

He blinked and shook his head, suddenly confused as to why she was implying he'd asked her to have an affair with him when that could not be further from his mind. "Wait—what if I wasn't married?"

"You are."

"What if I was divorced?" Gina had practically said as much two nights earlier when she'd packed a bag and disappeared off to the Plaza—on his credit card, no less. He expected the papers at his doorstep in a matter of days.

She shook her head. "I'm still not interested"

"Wha—wait—just hold on. I-"

"Thanks for the coffee; goodbye, Mr. Castle."

Before he could even stammer out another word she pushed her way out of the crowded shop. Castle struggled to regain his senses enough to scurry after her, but he managed to catch up just a few hundred feet away on the sidewalk. "No, c'mon stop. You're not 'not interested' I know it!"

She stopped walking abruptly and looked at him. "How?"

He stood in front of her to tick off the reasons. "Because you came to my book singing with a book that looked like it had been read dozens of times. When you introduced yourself to me you sounded nervous and when our Timers went off you looked terrified…only I'm not quite sure why, though I'm willing to bet it has something to do with whatever happened to you that made you want to hide your Timer from existence."

Her lips shut tightly and she stared at him with her hazel eyes wide for the better part of a minute. Normally, Castle would have taken great pride in successfully using his powers of observation to peg someone so soon after meeting them, but as he was dangerously close to losing her, he needed to stay focused. Rounding his shoulders, the writer continued in a softer tone. "Look, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here. I… I'd like to be friends. Can we start as friends, Kate?"

"I…"

"Please? We can have coffee or go to a movie. You can even come with Alexis and me when we go roller-skating in central park."

"Who's Alexis?" she asked in an exhausted sounding tone.

"My daughter; she's ten."

He watched as she mouthed the word, "daughter," and then skimmed her hand over her brow. "Look, Mr. Castle I… I'm flattered that you want to be friends with me; it's very nice of you, but if you have a family then I don't want to be responsible for breaking that up—I can't be. I'm sure your daughter wants her parents to stay married; I know I would."

When she continued walking, Castle cursed under his breath up and jogged to catch up with her once more. Shit; nothing like airing out all his dirty laundry before they even had a first date. Then again, if she really was a fan, which he presumed she was since they met at one of his book signings, she may have been aware of part of it. "Oh, um…yeah Gina, my current wife, is not Alexis's mother. That's Meredith, my first wife."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Shaking her head, the detective continued walking. "Your life sounds very complicated, Rick. So is mine right now."

"You're with someone, too?"

Her eyes flicked in his direction. "Not exactly. It's just complicated."

"So what are you proposing? I'm open to ideas, but one of them can't be us walking away and never seeing each other again." He would not accept it; he simply would not. She didn't want to be in a romantic relationship with him at that exact moment? That was fine. Given his situation with Gina, he knew that was for the best. And, okay, she wanted to wait until he was officially divorced and his life was less, as she put it, complicated? That was fine too; he would accept that and even respect her for it, but at the end of the day they were matched—destined—to be together and so they needed to work something out, even if they simply remained friends.

She turned to him, her expression softening. "I didn't say that I _never_ wanted to see you again; never is a very long time."

"It is." He agreed. "So when?"

She shrugged. "Sounds like you have some things to work out, as do I and we both need time, so how about…in a year? We'll meet up again in a year and see where we're at."

"A year? How about three months?" A year; she was crazy! That was far too much time!

"Ten months."

"Five."

"Eight—final offer."

"Seven months and two weeks."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine."

He grinned, now even more excited after their back and forth banter. "You drive a hard bargain, Kate; I like it. So where will we do this?"

She nodded he head towards the coffee shop they just left. "Seems as good a place as any."

"Okay. So …" He paused to quickly count off the time on his fingers. "January twenty-sixth?"

"I'll see you then."

She turned to leave but he jumped around in front of her to block her path. "Wait. If you get the urge to call me before then." He dipped his hand into the breast pocket of his jacket and handed her a standard sized business card.

She took it but with little concern. "I won't."

"Do you have a card?"

"Yes," she said as she walked away.

He didn't follow, but he did call out, "Kate!"

She didn't turn around. "See you in January, Mr. Castle!"

Castle remained on the sidewalk, watching her walk away until she turned a corner and he could no longer follow the swish of her his with his eyes. He skimmed his index finger over his lips and wondered just how long it would be until he saw her again.

* * *

On September 12, 2004, Kate Beckett received a bouquet of two dozen long-stemmed red roses. They were delivered to her desk at the Twelfth Precinct along with the note that said simply, "Happy Anniversary - RC." She stared at the note for several moments convinced the gift had been delivered to the wrong desk, but then it hit her. RC—Richard Castle.

Grumbling, Kate crumpled up the note and tossed it aside. Happy anniversary? What the hell did that even mean? They weren't a couple. They weren't in a relationship. They were barely even acquaintances. They had met once and—shit. Exactly two months had passed since they met— _exactly_ two. And, thinking back, around the middle of August a "Congratulations" balloon had been tied to her desk chair. She had accused several coworkers of pranking her, but none confessed. She'd forgotten about the incident, but in hindsight she knew it had to be him.

God, he was frustrating, wasn't he?

Something deep down inside her told her that he wasn't through yet. Balloons to roses was certainly an escalation. What would month three bring? Or, dare she even think it, month six?

No, she had to stop this before it went any further. She had to—lord help her—call him; it was the only way. She couldn't simply send the roses back to him. She had no address for him and it wasn't fair to burden the floral shop with the fact that her Timer-mate (the term nearly made her shiver) didn't know how to respect her wishes and give her the space she'd indirectly asked for. Maybe that was the problem—she needed to be more direct.

Kate spent the next few minutes digging through her desk drawers until she procured the business card he had pressed into her palm two months prior. Her head held high, she dialed his number and pressed the phone to her ear, taking in a deep cleansing breath. He was definitely going to make this difficult—she barely knew the man, but of that much she was certain.

The phone rang for around twenty seconds before the voicemail picked up and she left as business-like a message as she could muster. "Mr. Castle? It's Kate Beckett. There's no need to call me back but I just received your flowers and while that was…thoughtful, it was completely unnecessary. Please do not send anything further. I'll see you in January."

She placed her cell phone back down on her desk quite pleased with her message. She felt she had come across as professional, not unnecessarily mean or cold, but simply matter-of-fact. She then turned back to her computer only to be interrupted not one minute later by her phone ringing. She shut her eyes and winced; she didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Damn, why hadn't she used her desk phone? Then his call would have needed filtered through the central office and it would have been easier to block him.

Clinging to the futile wish that she could dismiss him quickly, she answered the phone with an even tone. "Detective Beckett."

"Kate." His smooth baritone hit her ear and she winced. "So glad you called."

"It wasn't a social call, Mr. Castle; it was a polite request."

"Oh yeah? What'd it say?"

Kate pulled the phone away from her ear a few inches and looked at it, befuddled. "You…didn't listen?"

"No. I hung up as soon as I heard you say your name and hit redial."

"You didn't listen to the full message?"

"No."

"B-but…what if I'd left you instructions on how to contact me!?" She spluttered, not sure what shocked her more: his lack of consideration or his blasé attitude about it.

"Did you?"

"No."

"Then its fine. So what was the message about? Oh! Did you get my flowers?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a deep breath. "I did and that's what I called about. While thoughtful, they're completely unnecessary Mr. Castle and I asked you to please not send me anything else."

"Why not? I like sending you things."

"Oh really? And what does your wife think of that?" She added as a purposeful dig, hoping to get him off the phone.

He didn't miss a beat. "I wouldn't know. I haven't spoken to her since she boxed up her things and served me with divorce papers six weeks ago."

"O…oh…" She sighed and her voice dropped lower on the second syllable. Damn—that made her statement extra mean. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Like I said before: we never should have gotten married. I'm fine."

"Still…your life is complicated and so is mine, so I think its best that we just keep our distance for a little while."

"Until January?"

"Yeah." She agreed.

"Okay, Kate, but you still have my number."

"Goodbye, Mr. Castle." With that, she ended their call and pushed her phone aside so that she could get back to work.

* * *

Strolling down the streets of Manhattan on that beautiful October afternoon, Richard Castle could not have been having a more enjoyable time. He was out and about, taking in the sights and sounds of the city, hoping to find some inspiration to keep writing. Being in the fresh air usually gave him some sort of inspiration—even if that inspiration was to go home and take a nap.

Castle hurried across the street just as the "Don't Walk" symbol began to blink. He joined the crowds of people moving their way uptown, but did not hurry his pace at all; he merely found a clear area and continued walking, gazing casually out onto the streets at the honking taxi cabs and rushing bike messengers. As he had to move towards the left side of the sidewalk due to construction, he was unfortunately clipped in the shoulder by one such messenger, which set off an unfortunate chain reaction.

The writer stumbled forward, the take-away cup of coffee in his hand outstretched precariously. As the bike messenger jumped up onto the sidewalk, the group of people in front of him stopped walking suddenly, meaning that Castle—and his coffee—collided with the arm of the woman walking in front of him. He tried to hang on to the cup but it was too late and it spilled down over her arm and on to the chest of her white blouse.

"Oh my god! Miss I am so sorry! That bike messenger bumped into me and…I…."

His voice drifted off when the woman in front of him whipped around and he came face-to-face with her caramel-brown eyes, which were narrowed in quite an infuriated glare. "Fuck—I mean. Kate…"

"Castle?!"

"Hi…"

"Are you stalking me?"

"What? No. This is totally coincidental! I was just walking down the street paying attention to the traffic and, god I'm so sorry about your shirt."

She grimaced down at the milky brown stain covering the left third of her body. She pulled at her sleeve, which had taken the brunt of the damage, and sighed notably. "It's okay; I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"Still, I feel bad. Let me make it up to you—I'll buy you a new blouse."

She flashed him an irritated expression. "Um, no, that's not necessary."

"I'll pay to have it dry cleaned."

She offered him a half smile. "No it's fine. I'll live."

As she went to walk away, he scurried after her, tossing his now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash before he could do more damage with it. "So, what brings you to this side of town?"

"Interviewing a suspect."

"Is he guilty?"

She glanced over at him. "I don't know yet. Why are you following me, Castle?"

"I'm not following you, we're having a conversation.

"No we're not."

"Yes we—hey, you called me Castle."

She stopped walking as they had arrived at the next intersection and traffic was flowing through it. "That's your name isn't it?"

"My last name."

She shrugged. "Oh, well, it's a work thing—we all go by last names there."

Castle smiled and thought of how awesome it would be to be in the precinct—just one of the gritty cops, solving crime and pulling criminals from the streets. "Sure, makes sense. Hey do you think maybe sometime-"

She interrupted without blinking an eye. "No."

His shoulders rounded. "You don't know what I was going to ask!"

As the traffic lights changed, Kate took one step towards the edge of the sidewalk. "Whatever it is the answer is no."

"Kate!"

"Bye Castle!" She called out over her shoulder as she hurried into the crowd of busy New Yorkers.

Castle remained on the edge of the sidewalk as people shoved their way past him. He didn't follow, thinking it was best to leave her be, but hey—at least he'd been able to see her. And maybe one day he would be able to shadow her at her job, but he definitely had to pick his moment to ask again.

* * *

 _A/N: unlike all the other timer stories, this was too long for just 1 chapter, so i'll post the 2nd half this weekend :)_

 _Oh and thanks to Lou (InkyCoffee) for the idea for this one!_


	10. Set: AUPre-Series (Pt 2)

**Setting: AU/Pre-Series meet (Part 2 of 2)**

* * *

Kate Beckett was thoroughly entrenched in writing an email explaining just why she and her team needed their warrants processed in a timely manner when she was interrupted by a purposeful throat clearing. The hair at the back of Kate's neck stood on end.

No…no—it couldn't possibly. He wouldn't. He absolutely would not! She refused to believe her betraying ears until she dared to glance to her left and caught glimpse of the tall figure behind the curtain of her hair. "Wha…" She croaked out, completely stunned. Turning to face him properly, she found that he wore a grin and clutched a bouquet of bright flowers in his fist.

"Happy birthday," he said quiet proudly, holding out the bouquet to her.

She croaked again, now even more shocked—if that was even possible. Castle randomly showing up at the precinct? Okay, that was surprising, but believable. He had been texting her on occasion, asking her to meet him for drinks or meals (naturally, she never answered), but how had he possibly known the date of her birth? How had he known she would be at her desk and not off-shift or working in the field somewhere? How had he even been allowed up to the homicide floor? "Wha…how?"

He grinned. "A writer has his secrets."

Refusing to accept that answer, she stood from her chair and folded her arms over her chest. "No seriously—how did you know it was my birthday?"

"Um…"

"Castle!"

"So, uh, I might have gone to see your father."

Kate nearly choked. "M-m-my FATHER!?" She had anticipated him telling her about his hours of research on the internet, how he'd called and sweet-talked her captain. Him hacking into the NYPD database might have made more sense. How in the hell had he found her father?

A wince crossing his face she said, "Yeah…."

"How?"

"Google."

"That's not an answer."

"Sure it is. I was Googling you and, um, found your mother's obituary…"

Kate raked her hands through her hair and turned away from him. It was getting worse! "Jesus…"

"Sorry about that, by the way. Anyway, I got his name from there and I started Googling some more… I found his office hours posted and I just sort of popped in."

She turned back to face him and his sheepish expression did nothing to assuage the blind furry burning within her. "Castle!"

He almost appeared as though he was ready to duck when he asked, "Are you mad?"

Mad? Was she mad? She wasn't even in the same galaxy as mad; mad was a distant memory to her. "I—I don't even know where to begin. You need to go."

"Wait." He reached out a hand to her, but she twisted away from his grasp and balled her fists as she stared him down.

"No, Castle, no. This is so completely far out of bounds I don't even know where to begin."

He held out his free hand to her, palms up as though his words alone would make amends. "I'm sorry but you wouldn't talk to me and I know you were just ignoring my texts. I wasn't sure what to do—I just wanted to know more about you."

She sucked in a breath through her nose attempting to calm her heart rate and thus stop the trembling in her limbs. "So, let me get this straight—you're blaming me for this?!"

"No—no! Not blaming. I'm not blaming anyone. I'm overzealous; it's one of my worst flaws."

She gave a derisive snort in response to his rather pitiful expression. "I can imagine."

"I am sorry. Let me make it up to you—I'll take you to dinner."

She groaned and threw up her hands. Just as she was almost about to relinquish her fury there he was again—making her mad. "You're insane and you need to go!" To add force to her statement, she turned and walked away from her desk to disappear into the break room, but of course he followed her.

"Kate!"

She whipped around and nearly ran smack into him. He stumbled back as she said, "This is harassment; I can arrest you."

"You wouldn't …?" His tone ticked upwards at the end making it sound as though he was asking a question.

She growled. "Try me."

He clasped both his hands around the flower bouquet and held it out in front of him as though it were an amulet of protection. "Kate, please. Okay I admit—contacting your father without your permission was toeing the line—overstepping! Overstepping the line!" He added frantically as she took a menacing step towards him.

"You're damn right it was."

"I'm sorry," he said, holding the flowers out even further. "Please take them. I know you're probably mad at me, but they're for your birthday."

She reluctantly accepted them and thanked him, hoping this act would make him leave, but of course it did not.

"Let me continue to grovel tonight at dinner—my treat."

She rolled her eyes and turned to go to the breakroom in hopes of finding a glass for the flowers to fit into. "No."

He slid into the room after her. "But I even made reservations. Ristorante Italiano – your favorite."

Kate gripped the edge of the kitchenette counter so hard she bent the bottom stems of her bouquet. She didn't even have to turn around to know that the writer was grinning proudly; she could just feel it. "My father told you."

"Yep."

She turned around and felt her blood pressure spike at his unwavering smile. "Does he know we're…you know?"

He shrugged and dipped his gaze. "Had to explain who I was somehow."

"Perfect." Of course she had not told her only living parent that she had matched—why would she? As far as she was concerned, the match was utterly pointless; it meant nothing. Was she, perhaps, moderately interested in seeing what Castle was like as a person during their pre-planned January meet up? Well, she had been before he'd been so damned annoying. Now all she wanted was to be rid of him.

The writer took two steps towards her. "Your father actually seemed quite pleased about it."

"Did he?" she responded, her tone flat. He nodded and she asked, "How long did you talk to him?"

"'bout an hour."

God, it was getting worse.

"So…dinner?" he asked enticingly. "C'mon…what else were you doing tonight?"

She rolled her eyes. "You mean on my birthday? You didn't think I had plans?"

He shrugged. "It's a weeknight; I took a gamble."

Narrowing her eyes, she stepped towards him so they were almost toe to toe. "If I agree to do this, you have to promise to leave me alone. No texts. No phone calls. No randomly showing up here. We don't speak again until January."

He remained expressionless for several moments, obviously considering her offer. "Can I send you a Christmas card?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Okay, I'll take that deal— _IF_ you still feel the same at the end of dinner."

She held out her hand for him to shake. "Deal."

"Deal," he said, shaking it.

Then, she turned back to her search for a flower-container as he added, "Reservations are for seven-thirty; I'll meet you there."

"Fine."

"See you later, Kate."

She didn't let out her breath until she heard the break room door shut behind him. Once he was gone she leaned against the counter and exhaled. Just a few hours—just a few more hours and she'd be rid of him for…well, two months, anyway. That was better than nothing. And she would be rid of him, because there was absolutely, positively no way that anything that happened over dinner would change her mind.

* * *

When he heard the knock at his apartment door, Castle nearly jumped with excitement. He pulled the skillet of vegetable medley off the stovetop and hurried to welcome his guest. Her arrival in his apartment had been a long time coming and he definitely did not want to make her wait an extra second. "Kate!" He greeted her with a grin. "Good evening."

"Hi." She spoke with a nervous edge to her tone as she stepped inside and loosened her scarf. "I brought this; hope it's okay," she said of the bottle of red wine she held out to him.

He smiled, took the bottle and thanked her before adding, "C'mon in; let me take your coat."

Even as the heavy wool item slid from her shoulders and he hung it beside his in the closet, Castle still could not believe that she was really there—that he'd talked her into it.

Kate's birthday dinner had gone well, very well—particularly after she moved on to her third glass of wine. He had her laughing, keeping all the topics light and Timer-free, per her request. Mostly, he told funny anecdotes from book signings and stories about Alexis. When she said, "I'd like to meet her someday; she sounds like a riot," he'd lunged at the chance.

"Have dinner with us next week," he'd said.

Her refusal was immediate. "I can't."

"Sure you can."

She'd dropped her napkin on the table and was pushing her chair back from the table as she said, "We agreed Castle," in an exhausted tone. He knew he had just one more minute of her attention, so he tried to sell the invitation as best he could.

"C'mon; what's one more dinner going to hurt? I'll make you my world-famous chocolate lava cake dessert."

"Does it come from a box?"

"Perish the thought!"

With thirty more seconds of him staring intently at her she'd finally agreed to eat with them. A few days later, when he'd called her to solidify the plans, she'd tried to back out, but he had once again twisted her arm into it, though had accepted the possibility she might bail at the last minute; he was glad she had not. They were going to have a nice evening together—all four of them; his (soon to be) family.

"This is my mother, Martha, and this is Alexis."

Kate shook hands with the elder woman and then smiled at the little girl. "It's nice to meet you both."

Alexis stepped forward, eyed Kate curiously for a minute and then asked, "How come you don't like my dad?"

"Alexis!" He spluttered out, stunned. She hadn't even said a polite hello before asking a question like that!? She was usually much better at interacting with strangers.

To her credit, the unusual question did not seem to ruffle Kate one bit. "I do like him. I just want us to be friends," she said pleasantly.

"You're not a very good friend."

"ALEXIS!" Now mortified, he rushed over and grabbed the girl's shoulders to guide her away from Kate. He was positively stunned; he'd never witnessed her say something that unkind before—to a stranger, no less. After sending her towards the table, he turned back to Kate. "I am so sorry."

"Well it's true." Alexis said from her seat at the table. Looking at her father she added, "You always say she doesn't call you back."

Now at a loss for words, Rick looked at his mother for assistance, but she was atypically silent. Turning his gaze to Kate, he prepared to apologize once more, but she merely shrugged and said, "She's right. I'll, ah, work on getting better at that," before walking over to the table and pulling out the chair across from Alexis.

The young girl leaned her forearms against the table so she could stare more intently at Kate. "My mom doesn't call me back and I don't like it very much so that's how I know Dad doesn't like it either."

"Okay you know what?" the writer said as he gripped his daughter's shoulders and guided her back into her seat, perhaps with a bit more firmness than necessary. "Let's talk about something else."

Alexis tilted her head back and looked at him. "Like what?"

Fighting the urge to wince, he said, "Literally anything else."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Precocious girl you have there."

Castle felt the urge to wince under Kate's half-teasing stare. Fortunately, the rest of their meal had gone by relatively uneventfully, but he could not help but think that beneath Kate's smile she was secretly counting down the seconds until she could sprint from his home, never to be seen or heard from again—Timer be damned.

Resting his hip again the kitchen counter he sighed out his fifth apology of the night. "I'm sorry she's usually much better behaved." He'd sent the girl upstairs with her grandmother promising that they would have a very long talk about how to behave appropriately in front of guests the following day as soon as she arrived home from school.

Kate shook her head. "No, she was fine. Honest; I like honest. She's protective of you."

He shrugged his shoulders as he, too, had noticed that—particularly after his _second_ divorce was finalized that year. "More than she should be, probably."

She nodded. "It's sweet. And reminded me that I probably owe you an apology. I shouldn't have been avoiding your calls that much; it was rude of me and, ah, I will get better at calling you back."

"Really!?" he asked with a bit more enthusiasm than necessary. Backing down on his tone he continued. "Because, Kate, that would be amazing—really. And I know that you want us to take things slow and be friends and I'm totally fine with that. I'll do whatever you want. My divorce is finalized now and-"

"Rick." She stopped him, shaking her head and slipping her hands down into her jean pockets. "I don't want you to…to feel like you have to do things to check off some sort of list of requirements I have for us to be in a relationship."

He blinked at her. "But don't you have that list?"

"No." She half-laughed. "I mean, yeah, I didn't want to be in a relationship with a married guy but that's not unreasonable."

"No! No not at all!"

She lowered her eyes and scuffed the toe of her shoe over the kitchen floor for a moment before saying, "I guess…I guess my intention was for us to have a relationship that started organically—when it felt natural. If we had a relationship at all. I just—the last thing I wanted was something forced by a Timer."

He nodded as her reasoning made sense; he could definitely appreciate what she was saying. "Okay. So, I'll, uh, call you?"

She brushed some hair out of her eyes as she looked at him. "Yeah. And I'll answer—promise."

* * *

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this." Kate signed when Castle joined her on the couch, grin on his face, and a bowl of popcorn in his hands.

He grasped a handful of kernels and dumped them into his mouth before gesturing towards the TV and asking, "Why? Would you rather be there?"

Just looking at the birds-eye-view of Times Square made her shiver. "God no. it's snowing out there!" No, she was much happier indoors—even if it was on the couch in the writer's apartment.

For the prior five weeks, ever since she had promised to be better at answering and returning phone calls, Kate had done exactly that. She and Castle spoke on average of four days a week, and if they had not managed to connect by phone, they usually exchanged a few text messages. After just a few days Kate had to admit to looking forward to their nightly calls and she felt disappointed when they didn't occur due to her varying schedule. The more they spoke, the more at ease she felt around him. They were becoming real friends and she was definitely happy about that.

Due to their increased level in friendship, Kate was not surprised when the writer tried to include her in his family Christmas activities. She had two meals with the family since the first, slightly-awkward one and she and his daughter were on better terms, but she didn't feel comfortable with Christmas as a holiday at all, let alone intruding on what was the most family-centered holiday of all. She brushed him off, though he persisted until she finally explained the details of her mother's murder. After that he'd said, "How about New Years' Eve instead?"

Kate had merely croaked out a response, her mind immediately battling between answering in the affirmative or declining the invite. Spending an evening watching TV in Castle's apartment wasn't the issue; were that the only part of the event she would have happily agreed. However, the fact that it was _New Year's Eve_ changed things. If they watched the Times Square activity from the warmth of his apartment, would he be expecting, as was tradition, a kiss at midnight? Did she want to kiss him? And, if she did kiss him, could that kiss potentially lead to…more?

After considering the possibilities Kate ultimately agreed to join him and she could hear the sheer relief in the writer's tone when she did so. He'd promised a low-key, casual affair, so naturally she'd expected something over the top, but he was true to his word and they'd settled on the couch after the petite red-head went to bed. It was…nice—just the two of them; comfortable.

"You ever do this? Times Square?" Castle asked, pointing to the TV as the camera man panned through the crowd of bundled up, cheering people.

She popped a few more pieces of popcorn into her mouth and shook her head. "Nah, never saw the appeal of being stuffed in like sardines—and not being able to pee for ten hours."

"You can pee; that's what adult diapers are for."

On pure reflex, Kate smacked the back of her hand against his arm. "Castle! That's disgusting. Did you do that?"

He chuckled as he smiled over at her. "No I peed in a cup."

She rolled her eyes and felt a shiver go up her spine, so she tucked the loosely knit blanket a bit tighter around her lap. Evidently noticing this, Castle asked, "You cold? Want me to turn up the heat?"

"No I'm fine," she said, not wanting him to change the climate of his space on her account.

"C'mere then; I'll warm you up."

She hesitated for a moment before sliding across the cushion and ducking under his extended arm. She leaned her body against his and relaxed her head against his shoulder, immediately feeling the warmth of his body cascading over her. That was nicer—better—particularly when watching the snow collect on the hats and jackets of those several dozen blocks away.

For the next hour they watched the festivities unfold on the TV and commented occasionally. At quarter to midnight, Castle asked if he wanted her to open champagne and she said there was no need. They then proceeded to have a fourteen minute discussion on their varying opinions of the importance of the New Year's holiday until the countdown on the TV interrupted them.

"Well," Castle said around the fifty second mark, sitting up and removing his arm from around her back, "if we can't toast champagne at midnight, we're going to have to kiss."

She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip and said, "I guess I can suffer through that."

"Suffer! I'll have you know that-"

"Castle."

"What?"

"Fifteen seconds."

They remained quiet for the rest of the countdown, and at the exact strike of midnight they faced each other and said in unison, "Happy New Year." Then, Castle slid his hand beneath her jaw and used it to guide their lips together.

When their mouths met, Kate breathed in sharply, feeling a buzz in her chest, and a crackle in her wrist beneath her Timer that was not unpleasant. She sunk against him, a soft moan escaping her lips as her hand fell against his chest. Their lips broke apart, but only for a moment before she kissed him again, and again, and again, and—god—who ever knew kisses could be this good?

They finally separated a few minutes later, and Kate took note of the writer gazing at her, his lips parted and slightly swollen, his eyes and equal mixture of wanting and amazement. His thumb grazed down the side of her neck, her whole body shivered and she knew in that moment that the only thing she wanted that night was him. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up on her knees, swung her left leg over his lap and collapsed down against him.

His hands naturally settled at her hips as she cradled his face, kissing him again and again. Every inch of her skin felt electric—like finally she was in the right place at the right time doing the thing she was meant to do. She let out a soft whimper when she felt his hands splay against her back, his pinkies grazing against the spot where her sweater rode up and exposed her back; she rolled her hips against his trying to alleviate the aching growing in her low-belly.

"Mmm Kate." He moaned out her name.

"Shhh."

"No wait. Wait." He pressed his hands against the tops of her shoulders, gently holding her back. She gazed down at him, unable to process exactly what was happening due to the fact that her brain was foggy from their kissing. It appeared he may have suffered the same affliction due to the fact that he stammered out his next few words. "I need…I don't want…not…not unless it's real. Not unless it's the start of something. I deserve that."

Kate took in a breath, trying to moderate her heart rate. He didn't want a one night stand on New Year's Eve only for her to tell him they weren't going to speak again until January, February or whenever she saw fit—that was fair. "Okay." She tried to kiss him again, but he stopped her.

"I'm serious."

She sat back on his knees so their faces were several inches apart. Though she had been what she considered to be a good friend over the prior month, she understood his hesitation, and thus felt it only fair to show him just how serious she was taking this upgrade in their relationship status. Lifting up her right arm, she pulled up her sweater sleeve and displayed her inner wrist to him. "So am I."

He moved his hands from her waist to cradle her arm. He gazed down at the now plainly visible Timer display for several moments before meeting her eye and asking. "You cleaned it off?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Christmas." She had just ended her shift late in the afternoon on Christmas Day and left the precinct unsure of what to do with herself. Castle had insisted she could join them for dinner, but it still didn't feel right. As she walked into her apartment alone, she thought for the first time that year might be her last Christmas of solitude; that she had finally found someone worth changing for and that person was Castle. She'd spent the next hour working diligently to pull the duct tape from her Timer and clean it of any remaining sticky residue. Then, as she gazed at the date for the very first time, she smiled softly.

"Kate?" he said softly, his fingers grazing the back of her hand.

She smiled and looked at him steadily. "I'm in this; I promise." And then she kissed him.

* * *

Castle awoke in the middle of the night, unsure of the time. He looked to his right and saw the bed empty, but with the bathroom door open and light off, he doubted she was inside. "Mm Kate?" he grumbled softly. Looking left he squinted at the clock on the nightstand to see that it was barely after three a.m., meaning he'd been asleep for less than two hours.

Sitting up, he blinked and looked around his room again, searching for signs of his companion, but found none. Had Kate really left in the middle of the night? When it was snowing, no less?

Refusing to accept that as a possibility, he pushed himself from bed and walked out into the living area of the loft when he spotted her in the kitchen, standing by the island with only a small light on overhead. "Kate?" he asked again as he sleepily stumbled through the room.

She set down the mug she cradled and said, "Sorry. Couldn't sleep."

"I didn't tire you out enough?"

She smiled momentarily, but then looked down towards the counter and shook her head. "No I just…I was thinking."

He stopped walking a few feet from her. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I just…I guess I never expected you to be you."

Her comment confused him, but he wasn't sure if it was the sleepy state of his mind or if it was because she truly made no sense. Before he could inquire as to her meaning, she continued.

"When we met I saw Richard Castle, the author, and I loved his books; they meant so much to me but the person? He was kind of a lot to handle, so I kept my distance. Plus I have severe emotional intimacy issues."

He almost laughed—that was one way to put it. "Could have fooled me."

She shook her head. "But I…when I finally let myself get to know you I found this sweet, wonderful, amazing man who's a loving father and a good friend. And I just never expected it. I'm glad, though, very glad."

Unable to stop himself, he walked over, placed his hand in the center of her back, and leaned in to kiss her. "Me too. And you're in this right?" he asked to confirm what she had said earlier.

"Yeah. I'm in this. Especially after that." She nodded her head towards his bedroom. Then, lowering her tone, she said, "Is it just me or does the Timer…boost things?"

"Oh you think it's the Timer?" He had noticed the intensity of things, but never considered that to be the reasoning. "I just thought it was because I haven't had sex in eight months."

Her eyes widened. "Eight months?!"

He shrugged. "Told you Gina and I shouldn't have gotten married." For many, many, many reasons, as it turned out.

Smile blossoming across her face, Kate reached out and grabbed on to the sleeve of his t-shirt, pulling him with her as she made her way back towards the bedroom. "C'mon. As long as we're up, let's go celebrate the New Year again."

Grinning, Castle happily followed her; he could not have thought of a better plan himself.

* * *

 **A/N:** Glad to see everyone was so excited about this Timer insert - hope you enjoyed the conclusion. Thanks again to Lou for the idea (quite honestly I'm mad at myself for not thinking of it from the beginning :) )

Up next: **3x01 A Deadly Affair** which was requested by _Alyssa86InMN_

and then as promised **Flowers for Your Grave** (in several parts) will end this series

Thanks!


	11. Set: 3x01

**Setting: early in episode 3x01 (A Deadly Affair)**

Sitting in the interrogation room, Richard Castle tapped his fingertips against the table impatiently, his eyes trained on the door. He hated waiting—especially waiting in that room with his wrists shackled together and no cell phone to play with. It was far from his first time in the box—not even his first waiting for Kate Beckett in there—but something seemed…off. He'd had plenty of time to observe—fifteen or twenty minutes, he guessed—and it looked different. Then again, maybe it was just because he hadn't seen it in several months.

This whole thing was ridiculous, really; blown way out of proportion. Beckett knew he didn't kill anyone; that was absurd! She was annoyed with him—mad, probably, and he couldn't blame her. He should have called her at the end of summer, but he just wasn't in the right place. His summer had gone okay writing-wise insofar as the fact that he met his deadline. Personally, however, it was a bit of a disaster, and with her probably _super_ happy with what's-his-face he wasn't yet ready to see her, but not at least calling to check in? Yeah, that was his fault.

Finally, just as he was about to start banging his cuffed wrists against the table to stave off mind-numbing boredom the detective breezed through the door like a breath of fresh air. He smiled at her. "You look good."

She pulled out the chair across from him, sat down, folded her hands together and rested them on the table. "You look good, too." A beat went by and he was just about to open his mouth and produce a smug response when she continued with, "for murder."

He rolled his eyes. Okay, okay—he deserved the punishment. He'd have preferred if she just came right out and yelled at him, but as man who appreciated a little drama now and then, the pomp and circumstance was a nice touch. "C'mon Beckett you know I didn't kill anyone."

She opened the folder she set against the table, her all-business attitude showing more than ever. "No, I don't know that. Let's start with your whereabouts."

He sighed and leaned his forearms against the table. Fine, he'd go through it all with her, but the ache in his wrists was really setting him on edge. "Can you at least take these off?" he asked, holding up his joined hands. Her steely expression didn't waiver, so he softened his and pouted his bottom lip a little. "Please? C'mon, you put them on really tight."

Her gaze remained steady for thirty seconds before she rolled her eyes and stood, reaching into her back pocket presumably for the key. "Fine; if you're going to complain about it."

He grinned and extended his arms so she could reach more easily. "Thanks, Beckett, I really-"

"Where's your Timer?"

He blinked as her words made no sense. "What?"

She grabbed his right hand and forced it to turn so his palm faced the ceiling. She smoothed her opposite thumb across his bare wrist with an expression of disbelief. Gazing up to him wide-eyed, she continued. "You had it removed?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your Timer."

"I never had a Timer."

"Yes, you did."

"No...?" His voice rose as though his statement was a question for he was thoroughly confused. He had never had a Timer. Hell, he'd never even really considered getting one—not seriously. Yet, the detective seemed incredibly convinced that he possessed such a device, which seemed very odd as she was rarely wrong.

The detective's hands went limp causing her to drop the handcuff key, where it landed against the metal table with a clink. She slowly sat back down in her chair as she stammered. "But…but you—you said—and you…"

Castle helped himself to the key and swiftly unlocked his left handcuff and then pushed both cuffs and key back across the table to the detective, who looked paler than she had when she walked in the room. "Beckett? Are you okay?"

He heard her whisper out, "Oh god," beneath her breath and his brow wrinkled. This, clearly, was not part of the show she put on with the cuffs; this was genuine—but why? How?

"What's going on, Kate?"

As though his use of her first name had snapped her out of the trance, she cleared her throat, sat upright in her chair and turned back to her file folder. "What's going on is that you're under arrest for murder."

The statement of the charge didn't even register in his mind. All he saw was her deflecting for the thousandth time and he wasn't going to let it slide. "No. No—you're not changing the subject that quickly. Why did you think I had a Timer? Why even bring up Timers unless…" The wheels of his brain started to turn. She was upset and confused upon realizing that he didn't have a Timer. She thought he had a Timer. If she thought he had a Timer then maybe—

In one swift motion, Castle rose from his seat and shot both his hands out to grip her right hand. She managed to yelp out a, "No!" but it was too late; his grip was too strong even though she tried to pull her arm back. He wrestled up her sleeve and gasped when he saw the rectangular metal object. "You got a Timer!"

She yanked her arm away from his grasp and glared at him so viciously that he actually swallowed hard on reflex. "Sit down Mr. Castle or I'll cuff you to the table. Now, let's talk about our victim."

* * *

Two men, standing with arms folded over their chest, were waiting when the duo emerged from interrogation.

"Not our guy?"

"Really, Kevin?" Castle replied sounding as irritated as ever.

Kate fought the urge to smile at her college's dig, but managed to keep her lips straight. Shutting the door to interrogation behind her, she turned to the writer. "You're free to go, Mr. Castle."

He looked at her as though she'd just canceled his much-anticipated field trip to the zoo. "Wha—oh no. Not until I get some answers."

Though her heart rate increased slightly, she pretended that she did not know what he was talking about as she tucked her case folder under her arm and walked towards her desk. "I'm in the middle of a case."

Predictably, he followed her. "Great, I'll help you solve it then we can talk."

She set the folder on her desk and turned to face him, arms crossed. "No. That's not how this works anymore; you left."

"I took the summer off."

She rolled her eyes and turned towards her computer to check for incoming emails. "To frolic with your ex-wife—I'm aware."

"Wha...is that why you got a Timer? Are you jealous?"

Kate let out a blip of laughter so violent she almost coughed. Folding her arms in a challenging position once more, she looked at him. "Jealous? Of you and your ex-wife? Yeah, right. I am curious, though—does she make you do everything on a deadline?"

He met her dig with a pleased expression. "You are jealous, but why? Aren't you with…?"

His voice drifted off and she turned away from him, her back stiff.

Of course the writer read her body language easily. "You broke up with Demming? When?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Kate."

"I'm busy, Castle. I have a murder to solve, remember?" With that she pulled out her desk chair so aggressively that two wheels spun around and rattled against the hard floor. She plopped her body down and stared intently at her computer, completely ignoring Castle even though he remained beside her desk. She didn't have time for him—not that day and maybe not ever again.

* * *

Castle met up with his partner in the break room just as she reached towards the espresso machine. He swooped in and took over her spot, happy to make her the beverage that was her favorite. She offered a soft thank you, but otherwise said nothing, and simply hovered by the sink a foot away. "So," he began once the noise of frothing the milk had ended, "are we going to talk now?"

"Talk about what?"

He flicked his gaze towards her. Given how icy the atmosphere had been between them over the prior two days he estimated they had around a dozen things to talk about, but now that their suspects were behind bars, they needed to focus on the most pressing. Her drink made, he passed it over and asked, "Why'd you think I had a Timer Kate?"

She cradled the cup in her hands as she gazed at him. "Because you said you did—in an interview maybe five or six years ago. You told the interviewer that it showed dashes and then you looked at the camera and said, "That's right, ladies - if you don't already have a timer we could be a match.'"

"Oh shit." The writer cursed and shook his head. He had _completely_ forgotten about that incident until she mentioned it. Of all the luck he had…for her to see that interview and recall it in such detail; he was a moron! "That was...ah, right as my marriage to Gina was imploding. I was using a Timer as a gimmick to pick up women; it was a fake."

"Classy."

He shrank under her comment. Yep, he was definitely a moron. "Not my proudest moment." Somewhat in his defense, he'd only used the stick-on Timer for a few months before realizing it was a _really_ dumb idea. One of the floozies he'd hooked up with came to him devastated because she'd purchased a Timer implant and hers showed a countdown clock and it had been a painfully awkward not to mention slightly upsetting experience. Even still, using a fake Timer had been ill-conceived from the beginning.

"So why don't you have one?"

He shrugged and dipped his hands down into his pockets. They'd never really talked about Timers before. He knew she did not have one because he'd seen her wrist, but given how guarded she was about, well, _every_ aspect of her life, he didn't really think she'd be too forthcoming about her reasoning. Besides, he didn't have one, so the subject was not very prominent in his mind. "Oh, I dunno. Never seemed worth bothering to me—especially with them being only seventy percent accurate and all. What if the person you matched with was the wrong person and then you prevented them from finding their real soulmate? How terrible. Besides, it always seemed like something for the younger crowd."

Her lips twisted as she thought. "You would have been...twenty-five when they came out?

He bobbed his head, confirming her mental math. "Yes and I was married with a kid. Meredith never brought it up and I thought why risk ruining what we had for Alexis—that was back when I thought we could make it work."

"Makes sense."

"Why didn't you get one early on?"

She took a sip of her drink and then placed it down on the kitchenette counter. "Oh, I, uh, I always found them kind of creepy."

"Creepy?" he echoed, laughing.

She scrunched her nose and nodded. "Yeah. Having something metal permanently attached to your wrist? I just thought it was too weird. And then my mother died and…" Her voice drifted off with a shrug.

Given what he knew about her, this made sense. Kate had shied away from deeply intimate relationships in the wake of her mother's death, letting her fear of heartbreak win out. Yet, as they stood there, she was the only one that possessed a Timer, so clearly something had changed. "So when'd you get that one?" He nodded towards her wrist. He knew it had to be some time in the prior four months, but he was endlessly curious for the exact catalyst.

Her soft expression evaporated immediately and she picked up her mug to carry with her out of the breakroom. "It doesn't matter."

He chased after her. "It does."

She whipped around so quickly that she nearly spilled some of her coffee. "No, Castle, it doesn't. C'mon the case is over just...go home to Gina."

He remained frozen momentarily in the breakroom as he was confused. God—hadn't she realized? Evidently not. Barreling out of the breakroom, he skidded to her side. "She's not there." Kate looked up, mildly curious. "Yeah, shockingly enough we didn't last the summer before getting into a fight and breaking up. Think that's number five...hopefully we go for round six."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

Shaking her head, she rounded her shoulders and gazed at him with head tilted to the side. "Look I have paperwork with the two arrests and all so I should get to it. I'll talk to you later; thanks for the coffee."

"Sure, Kate." He nodded, slowly backing his way towards the elevator as a plan formulated in his mind. "I'll talk to you later."

* * *

Kate had barely been home five minutes before a knock at her apartment door interrupted the frustrating search through her refrigerator for something edible. She shut the fridge door and gazed back at the entry hallway rather incredulous. She didn't even need the powers of x-ray vision to know who was tapping against her residence's door. Only one person could be behind it.

Rolling her eyes, she crossed the room and walked over to the door. Whipping it open, she was midway through, "I didn't mean literally later today, Castle," when she locked eyes with the writer and an obnoxious beeping noise began echoing off the walls and floors. Eyes wide, she looked down at her right hand still gripping the door handle and gasped. The digits on her Timer were now flashing green and, though she had never witnessed it occur before, she somehow knew exactly what was happening.

 _Oh god._

"C-Castle?" she managed to stammer out.

He brushed past her and stepped into the apartment, hovering around the entrance to her kitchen. "Sorry to steal your thunder, but I couldn't help myself. This is what you intended, right? Took me about an hour to figure out the story, but then it all made sense."

She blinked at him. "What story?"

"The story of your Timer. After I left with Gina in the spring you realized how jealous you were and that made you think you were in love with me, so you decided to get a Timer so you could come out to the Hamptons and surprise me, but your Timer showed dashes and you thought I already had one, which meant we weren't a match. Devastated, you threw yourself into your work and then when I showed up you turned your anger against fate into anger at me. Wrongfully so, of course—as I just proved."

The smile on his face—the one that showed just how damned proud of himself he was—made her both want to slap him and kiss him. He really was too much sometimes, but he also made her heart flutter with joy, like in that moment as she watched his effortlessly crafted tale. He really was incredible. Yet she could not have been happier to prove him wrong. "Nope."

His whole body slouched several inches. "Really? I worked so hard on that!"

She shook her head. "Well you're half wrong, anyway."

"Which half?"

Grazing her teeth over her bottom lip she debated just how much of the truth to reveal to him, but then again he was her soulmate; he deserved every bit of it. "You had asked me to come to the Hamptons with you and I was scared because I wanted to. I was trying to work up the courage to say yes so I went for a walk. I was having this bizarre internal argument and then suddenly I found myself in front of a Timer shop. I guess I went temporarily insane because I went inside, thinking I'd surprise you twice when I agreed to go with you. And then, yes, I thought we weren't matched, so I got angry—and even angrier when Gina showed up to go with you for the weekend."

He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. "I am so sorry."

She merely shrugged. "It's my own fault. How'd I not notice in two years of partnership that you didn't have a Timer?"

"Yeah how didn't you notice that?"

She shrugged and laughed. "I don't know." Truth be told, Timers were not that prevalent for those older than her and since she didn't have one, she didn't much think about them. She never thought to check his wrist for a Timer just as though she never thought to ask if he had a tattoo somewhere on his torso. Still, standing there after everything that happened, it seemed rather silly since she had seen him with his sleeves rolled up more than a few times and she was a _detective_ after all.

After they shared a smile, Castle stepped forward and opened his arms to her. She willingly stepped into them, and a smile blossomed across her face when their arms closed around each other and she sunk against his body. He kissed the side of her head and asked, "Are you okay?"

She was about to answer in the affirmative when a heart-crushing thought crossed her mind. Their Timers had matched, and that was wonderful, but what if it was a false match? What if they fell into the thirty percent who had faulty Timers or felt a great attraction to one another and therefore triggered a false positive?

"Kate?"

She slid out of their embrace enough to gaze up at him cautiously. "I just thought…what if we're in the thirty percent?"

"What thirty percent?"

"False Timer matches."

"Oh." He rolled his eyes. "Not possible."

"You don't think?"

"I know."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow at his confidence. "And how's that?"

"Because of this." With that, he lowered his lips to hers and they shared their very first kiss. Kate felt it—a soft crackle at first, but then full blown sparks shooting from her wrist to the center of her chest. Kissing Castle felt like the one perfect thing she'd ever done in her life; it left her breathless in every sense of the world.

"O-oh." She sighed when their lips finally separated.

He grinned. "See; we're soulmates, Kate."

She smiled and hugged him tight once more. So maybe it wasn't a guarantee, but in this case she'd take his theory without questioning it; their match was one hundred percent real.

* * *

 **A/N:** This inset was inspired by a request in the reviews by Alyssa86InMN so thank you for that. Hope you enjoyed this take on it


	12. Set: Flowers for Your Grave (1 of 3)

**Setting: 1x01 Flowers for Your Grave (Part 1 of 3)**

* * *

With a heavy sigh, Richard Castle leaned his elbow against the rooftop bar table just a few feet away from where his daughter sat leafing through her history text book. This night was supposed to be _his_ night. Sure, it was the book release party for Derrick Strom's final tale and he didn't have another book lined up—despite his publisher's nagging—but the party was in celebration of him and he'd expected to have a lot to celebrate about.

Gazing down at his right wrist, Castle ghosted his left thumb over the silver Timer now displaying nine zeros. For over a decade, ever since the object implanted in his wrist had switched from dashes to numbers, the Timer had counted down steadily to a date in his thirty-eighth year. At the time, he'd been furious, particularly when looking around at friends whose Timers barely had a few years on them, let alone fourteen, but the older he got, the more excited he became. Yes, he had to wait for her, but that meant their love would be all the sweeter; she would be extraordinary.

When his agent had announced the date of his book release party, he'd merely shrugged it off like all the events he was required to attend and told him to send her a formal calendar invite for it. Of course his Timer date was also marked in his calendar, so when he saw that they coincided, he'd been beside himself with joy; clearly, this was a sign from above.

He'd barely even left his apartment earlier that day—what was the point? He was one hundred percent certain he was destined to meet her—his soulmate—at the party. Would she be a fan? Would she be a journalist wanting to interview him? Would she be one of the bartenders? He didn't know, but the prospects thrilled him.

Now, as the festivities dwindled down to almost a nonexistent hum, he was decidedly less thrilled. Maybe he'd made a mistake. Maybe by not wandering aimlessly around the city that day he'd missed his opportunity to meet her. Was that possible? Could his actions have made the Timer incorrect? He wasn't sure, but with fifty-two minutes until midnight, his chances were running out.

"Are you okay, Dad?"

Castle turned and offered a gentle smile to his red-headed teen who twirled a pencil in her hands as she gazed at him.

"I'm fine, pumpkin," he said, not wanting her to worry about him; she already did that enough. "Are you having a nice time?"

"Getting my homework done, yeah."

"You know you don't have to do that."

Her eyes widened and she appeared scandalized. "Of course I do; it's a school night!"

Castle almost chuckled. How Alexis was so studious and adult-like at barely sixteen he never knew. If nothing else, she was without question the one thing he had gotten right in his life. As for all the other aspects—particularly meeting his soulmate—well…

"Are you sure you're okay, Dad?"

That time, Castle's smile faltered. "Yeah I just…a little disappointed I guess."

The girl's eyes dipped towards his wrist. She was, of course, aware of why that evening was supposed to be extra special—he'd practically told everyone he met, which made the zeroes on his wrist all the more embarrassing. "Party's not over yet."

He scoffed. "All but. Besides, I just keep meeting the same women over and over. 'Hi I love your book." 'Ohmigod you're amazing.' 'I'm such a fan.'" He mocked in feminine tones. "And… I just want something _different_." Of course being fawned over was nice and Castle would never want the groupies to dry up—well, at least not for several more years—but at the end of the day they were all the same. Blonde, brunette, big breasts or small, tight dresses or short dresses—they were all identical on the inside. Interested in his books, his fame, but not in _him_. Not the real "him" anyway.

Alexis shrugged. "Maybe she will be."

"Yeah but-"

"Richard Castle?"

Castle stood up a bit straighter, curious as to whom the female inquiring about him was. Her voice seemed too deep and serious for one of the usual "sign my chest" bunch. Perhaps, he mused, she worked for the venue or was one of Gina's new assistants he had not yet met. "Ah, yeah, how can-"

The writer abruptly stopped speaking the moment a shrill sound hit his ears. That moment, as it happened, coincided with the moment he locked eyes with the female standing just a few feet behind him. They remained frozen, gazes locked, for the five second duration of the beeping. When silence filled the air, she immediately averted her eyes.

"I…I…"

Stunned himself, Castle glanced down at his right wrist to see—oh god! The Timer! The Timer no longer displayed zeros but that date: 03.09.09. So he hadn't missed her—not at all! She was real! His soulmate was standing right in front of him and she looked… rattled. Well, that was fair, he was quite surprised himself. And thrilled!

"I, ah, I need to speak with you, Mr. Castle," the woman said, seemingly regaining her footing. She held up a silver badge in her right palm and he glanced at it before looking back to her face.

God, she was beautiful. Young, too; he could not imagine she was older than her mid-to-late-twenties, which explained why his Timer clock hadn't started until he was almost twenty-five—she had been in her teens! Her hazel eyes, sharp cheek bones, and pink lips made her gorgeous, though, and that badge in her hand made her sexy. So she wasn't a partygoer or venue employees; she was in law enforcement.

Fighting the urge to make a joke about being a bad boy with every fiber of his being he asked the most important question he could think of, "Who are you? I mean, you seem to know me, but I don't know you, Officer."

"Detective." She snipped the correction and he apologized. "It's Beckett—Detective Beckett and I need to ask you some questions regarding a murder."

His eyes flared wide. "M-murder?" Well that was certainly a most unexpected way to end his book launch party.

"Well," Alexis said as she stepped up beside him, "she definitely seems different; I'll go get Gram."

"Ye…yeah," Castle began distantly as the detective—Detective Beckett—stared him down. "…better do that."

* * *

Sitting in the interrogation room at the twelfth precinct Castle shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was not uncomfortable about being in that room surrounded by the mirrored walls since, unlike previous occurrences, he was not actually guilty or anything. More so, his discomfort came from the duration at which he sat in the unforgiving metal chair. One look at his watch told him it was approaching the twenty minute mark.

As much as he was annoyed at the duration—and the seat that numbed his backside—Castle's overwhelming emotion was confusion, which was not the one he anticipated less than an hour after meeting his soulmate. He wanted to see her, speak to her, ask her a million questions and learn everything about her. Strangely, she did not seem to feel the same.

He'd tried to ask her questions as they moved from the rooftop bar to the elevator car to descend to street level, but she'd brushed off his every inquiry, telling him they'd speak more at the precinct. He simply could not fathom it. She had a Timer—clearly, his would not have gone off if she didn't have one—and thus she must have known her countdown clock had zeroed out twenty-four hours earlier signaling the imminent arrival of their meet yet, if nothing else, she seemed annoyed. How was that possible? They didn't even know each other!

Just as he was about to go investigate what was going on, the door to the interrogation room whipped open and the woman with the cropped maroon hair returned. Castle leaned against the table, resting his forearms flat and clasping his hands together, as he observed his new mate. She carried with her a brown file folder and a stack of papers and appeared to be all business, which both amused him and invited a challenge.

"Well, Mr. Castle," she said as she sat across from him. "Your rap sheet certainly does make for interesting reading. Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest and you…stole a police horse while nude?"

The writer fought the urge to cringe. Oh, right—he'd forgot just how, ah, detailed his police file would be. Brushing it off the best he could he commented, "Yeah, yeah—I had a misspent youth."

"That was four years ago."

He cleared his throat. "Whatever—are we seriously not going to talk about this?"

Seemingly ignoring his question, she opened her file folder, pulled out a photo and pushed it across the table towards him. "We're going to talk about this. Alison Tisdale."

"Ah, sorry, don't know her."

"Well she's dead so look a little closer. You never met her? Say at a signing or a charity event?"

Castle's nostrils flared at the word "dead" and he did as the detective asked. Picking up the photo, he studied Alison's face, but it didn't ring any bells. Even if she had come to a signing or charity event as the detective suggested he did a dozen events a year and each one had hundreds of people; it was rare that one person stood out and Alison certainly hadn't been one of them. "I…I suppose that's possible, but-"

"What about him? Marvin Fisk." Beckett pushed another photograph across the table at him.

"Sorry, doesn't ring a bell," he said of the nondescript male. Pushing both pictures back towards her he said, "I'm sorry, Detective but what does all this have to do with me?"

She turned back to her file folder and pulled out a third image. "I didn't put it together myself until I saw this."

That time, when the image landed before him, he gasped. Good god, it was like they had printed it directly from his own mind for it was identical to a scene from one of his first written works. " _Flowers for Your Grave_."

The detective nodded and whipped out one last photograph from the folder. "And this is right out of _Hell Hath No Fury_."

Castle looked down at the picture to see that she was indeed correct, but only for a moment because the image was not the most striking thing to him. _Flowers for Your Grave_? Sure; that one was pretty popular, but _Hell Hath No Fury_? That book was far and above his least read, and if the detective had recognized it without any prior prompting she must truly have been a fan. Well, that certainly added a delightful twist to their soulmate status. "You've read my books?"

She placed the folder down and clasped her hands atop it. "Mr. Castle—the crimes."

"Right. I, um…" He stared at the group of four pictures for almost a full minute, but ultimately shrugged and looked up at her. "I'm sorry; I have no idea what any of this could be about."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest. "Do you ever get letters—fan mail? Perhaps of the disturbing variety?"

He almost laughed. "Oh well yeah. Nearly all of it is—nature of my profession."

"Do you have any objections to the NYPD searching said mail?"

"No but-"

"Great. Thanks for your time." With that, she pushed herself up off the seat, grabbed the folder and the four images. "We'll be in touch if we need to ask you anything further."

"Wait!" He stopped her just as her arm extended to reach out for the door handle.

She gazed at him over her shoulder, clearly irritated. "I'm very busy Mr. Castle."

He stood and approached her slowly. "I understand that and I certainly hope you can find whoever did this to Alison and Marvin, but please can we just take a minute here to acknowledge the fact that our Timers matched?"

She flicked her eyes towards his torso and then back up at his face. "Acknowledged. You're free to go."

When she whipped open the door and charged out of it, he scurried after her, hardly believing what was happening. He had yet to meet anyone in his entire life who cared so little about their Timer-mate. Sure, there were those without Timers who found the concept ridiculous, but a Timered person? He'd never seen it—ever! This didn't make any sense.

"Wait, hold on. No—I'm not leaving here until I get your phone number—and your first name!"

She whipped around and stared at him with such intense annoyance he actually took a step back from her. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Castle, but I have no interest in abiding by whatever this ridiculous thing on my wrist says," she said while flippantly gesturing with her right hand.

Castle gazed at her for a moment, debating on how to respond, when she turned and started to walk away again, forcing his hand. He hurried around so that he got in front of her and blocked her path while stammering out, "Wha…no, no wait. Now, c'mon, I know we just met but lying to me is just insulting."

"Lying!" She blurted out, incredulous.

Castle smiled as he keenly applied his observational skills. "If you didn't want to pay attention to the ridiculous thing on your wrist, you would have had it removed. Plus, you forget—I saw your face when it went off. You weren't annoyed; you were surprised."

"Because I never expected it to go off!"

"But you must have—it would have zeroed out at midnight like mine did. You knew you'd be meeting me today. Besides, it wasn't 'oh my god, what's that noise?' surprised. It was flustered-surprised. You're intrigued by this match."

She scowled at him. "I'm annoyed."

Ever entertained, he responded with, "Are you?"

"Yes; extremely."

"But…you're a fan; shouldn't you be happy about this?" In response to his cheeky question, she merely growled and tried to step around him, but he reached out and touched her bicep. "Wait!"

Clearly, this was the wrong move to make, because she yanked her arm away from his grasp and snarled, "You need to go."

"Not until I have your first name."

"It's Kate. Who are you?"

Castle looked towards the two men that had approached during his back-and-forth with the detective. It was the taller, darker-haired of the two who had asked him the question, so he responded honestly. "Richard Castle; I'm her soulmate"

"Timer-mate." She snipped out her correction. "Soulmates don't exist."

Castle turned to the men he presumed to be her coworkers. "She always like this?"

"'Fraid so." The smaller man informed him before holding out his hand. "Detective Ryan and this is Esposito."

"Nice to meet you both." Castle shook both of their hands in turn. "I hope we can all be friends since I'll probably be spending much more time around here."

The female detective threw her file folder down on a desk and proclaimed, "No you absolutely will not."

Slipping his hands down into his coat pockets Castle merely smiled at her. "Guess we'll see about that, won't we?"

* * *

"So I was thinking…"

Kate glanced up from her paperwork to make eye contact with the blue eyed man who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the chair beside her desk. She had hoped he would go home after her latest arrested but yet there he sat. He wasn't even playing on his phone like a respectable playboy; he was gazing at her as attentively as ever and it made her skin prickle uncomfortably.

"We just solved this case—maybe we should celebrate."

She fought the urge to react negatively to his "we" comment. She and her team had solved the case. He _might have_ made a helpful suggestion or two along the way, but she, Ryan and Esposito solved it; he was just there for a reason she still did not fully comprehend.

When Montgomery had told her that Castle would be shadowing her for research Kate had been furious—livid. She did not want _him_ around for any reason especially considering—well, considering. The less time she spent with Richard Castle the better, she believed. Then, almost unbelievably, he was actually _helpful_ during their first case together. And the second. And, actually, on all five of the cases they worked together to date.

Every time he spotted something she didn't, she felt as though the knife in her gut twisted just a little bit further. Plus he was _so annoying_ about it that it made her even angrier. Yet, what made her angriest of all was the way he acted during case down time or in between cases. He would suggest things like dinners or drinks—in this instance, in the name of celebration, but that was not always the case.

Kate wasn't stupid or naïve. She knew he was trying to subtly ask her out, to get to know her better because he—like so many other ridiculous people in the world—believed the Timers accurately predicted one's mate. She, however, was definitely not. If nothing else, the object on her wrist was a nuisance. Had she taken note of the fact that it had finally zeroed out? Yes, but only because it beeped and she didn't know what the noise had been. Otherwise, she went through that day without even thinking of it once until she locked eyes with him and sirens went off.

What a disaster.

With a sigh, she turned back to the forms sprawled out across her desk. "I have paperwork."

"Not _now_ necessarily—when you're done. Come over and I'll make dinner."

"No."

"Dessert?"

"No."

"Cocktails."

She slammed down her pen. "Castle. Stop."

He leaned his forearm against the side of her desk and smiled enticingly at her. "We can do whatever you want."

She grumbled "No. Just stop. Please." Despite the fact that it was probably the tenth time she'd refused him he leaned back, a hurt expression crossing his face that made her feel instantly guilty and then annoyed at herself for her guilt. She was just going to have to lay it all out for him; picking up on subtlety clearly was not his thing.

"Look, I get it—you're doing all this because of the Timer and that's…oddly sweet, but you don't have to." Had she been another woman, Castle's persistence probably would have been flattering enough for her to give in and go out with him. And, okay, he was rather annoying and she wished he wasn't shadowing her in the name of "research" he would not yet fully explain, but he wasn't a bad guy necessarily. He had been nothing but polite to her and she certainly didn't mind the coffees he brought her, but at the end of the day one thing wouldn't change: she was not going to go out with him—ever.

"I was serious when I said I'm not interested so you don't have to waste your time. Go…try to woo someone else."

The writer frowned. "Okay…um, no more dinner invitations, I promise, but I can still shadow you right? For research."

Oh yeah there it was again—"research." He had promised to tell her more about what he was writing for once it was more concrete and she planned to hold him to it; she had no idea what he was concocting but did not want to be surprised with anything. "Ah…yeah if you think that's necessary."

He smiled. "Very much so." With that, he stood and picked up his coat before gazing down at her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Beckett."

"Sure…" she said with minimal interest before picking up her pen and turning back to her papers. As she heard his footsteps disappear towards the elevator she could not help but wonder just how long 'shadowing for research' would last.

* * *

 **A/N:** I certainly could not end the Timer series without this insert which will actually jump its way through the first...well, you'll see :)


	13. Set: Flowers for Your Grave (2 of 3)

**Setting: 1x01 Flowers for Your Grave (Part 2 of 3)**

* * *

"Beckett c'mon." Castle sunk down into the chair beside her desk, his hands clasped in a pleading manner before him. If he thought it would make any difference, he would have dropped to his knees at her feet and begged even more, but he knew at this stage in her anger Beckett would appreciate sincerity over dramatic groveling.

She didn't look at him as she said, "You have ten seconds to get out of here, Castle, or I'm pulling out my cuffs."

"Beckett."

"Nine…"

"If you just-"

"Eight."

"Stop counting!"

She looked at him. "Seven…"

He rounded his shoulders and leaned a bit closer to her, annoyed she was being so unreasonable. "You said if I helped you solve the case I could come back."

She tossed her pen across the desk, folded her arms across her chest, and leaned back in her seat. "No, YOU said that. Six."

"Beckett-"

"Five."

"I'm sorry!" He blurted out, finally ending her countdown. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I thought…I didn't think…" Well, he had. He'd thought if he could solve her mother's murder she might look at him more like her Timer-mate than the annoying gnat that refused to leave her desk, but that had blown up in his face.

He truly did not understand her, though he desperately wanted to. It had taken months but after working dozens of cases with her he'd finally clawed his way into her good graces. He thought he was done for when she found out about the character she inspired, but she hadn't reacted negatively; instead, she seemed flattered. She even told him about her mother's murder and her father's struggle with alcoholism, both events that molded her into the woman he found more incredible with each passing day.

Of course finding out about the unsolved case piqued his curiosity a bit too much and he'd looked at the case file despite her specifically asking him not to. He just wanted to get a few more details for Nikki's story, but then the more he looked he became convinced he could find something that was missed—and find something he did. He'd shown her, valuing honesty over potentially decimating the relationship they'd built to that point. Though a small, and evidently stupid, part of himself believed she would see him in a positive light, quite the opposite was the case and she actually hadn't spoken to him in over a month. Now, in the interest in continuing their partnership—and desiring to have a romantic relationship with the woman who was his soulmate—he was trying to make amends.

"You specifically asked me to do something and I did it anyway. That was disrespectful to you and your wishes and for that I'm very sorry. I hope you can forgive me." He knew that he would definitely never forgive himself if he'd lost the chance for lifelong happiness for being selfish and stupid.

She blinked slowly and then turned back to her papers. "Okay."

"Oh…kay?" he echoed, half stunned.

"Okay."

"Great! I mean, thank you, thank you Beckett!" He uttered out, fighting the urge to grab her hand and kiss it. "I promise I won't do it again."

She looked at him pointedly. "No, you won't."

He nodded. "I'll…see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow."

* * *

Kate Beckett was deeply uncomfortable—deeply and painfully uncomfortable. It was not her skin-tight dress or sky-high heels that gave her this feeling; she had worn both of those often enough that she could manage well enough, particularly for the duration of a few-hour party. Nor was it the fact that she had entered a room filled with well over a hundred people of which she knew a mere handful; her profession if nothing else made her well adept to socializing with strangers. No, it was that particular room—not to mention the runway full of paparazzi outside—that unsettled her.

A book release party for _Heat Wave_ —god, it was really happening, wasn't it; Castle had really written a book about her. Er, a character he'd based off her—a character that had been inspired by her. However it was worded, it was still pretty damn unbelievable, even as she was staring at the life-sized cardboard cutout of the book cover. The book was unbelievable, and so was the man that wrote it.

If forced to describe her feelings for Richard Castle, Kate was not sure that she could. The term "complicated" fit, but also did not do the situation justice. He was her partner in a sense that would have been traditional were it not for the fact that he was a multimillionaire and not actually employed by the NYPD. He was her friend, or as friendly as she could be with a man who cracked jokes continually and acted as though he had no comprehension as to how to behave like a proper adult. And, despite the fact that she hated it, she was not blind to the fact that their Timers had matched; perhaps that was the most complicating factor of all.

Making her way across the party, Kate was relieved to spot Montgomery, Esposito, and Ryan and began to make her way towards them, desperate for some allies who were as unused to the glitz and glamor of publishing as she. One thing she definitely had to commend Castle on was being kind and generous; he probably would have invited the entire homicide division to the party had his agent not capped the number of tickets he was permitted to disburse. Instead, he'd offered apologies and signed copies of the book to "keep or sell on eBay" for any who could not attend.

"You clean up nice, Beckett." Montgomery commented.

"Thank you, sir." She glanced briefly down at herself and then pressed her lips together. Was she wearing a brand new dress? A brand new dress for which she paid much more money than she normally would? Yes, but that was only because of the cameras. The writer had warned her about cameras—rightfully so, she discovered immediately upon arriving—and she wanted to look her best on the off chance her picture was printed extra-large on Page Six. She didn't care what Castle thought about what she was wearing—not even a little bit.

"Castle's going to be happy to see you. Have you read the dedication?"

Dedication? Was there a dedication in _Heat Wave_? Well yes she supposed there was; most books did have one, but she hadn't even thought… "No. What does it say?"

Montgomery gave her a small smile. "Why don't you go see for yourself?"

Setting her expression into one of solid indifference, Kate walked over to the large central table holding dozens of copies of the book in question. She tucked her clutch purse under one arm and picked up a copy from the top of the stack, half expecting to see something that might be a joke or, at the very least, sarcastic. Instead, her jaw dropped at what she saw.

 _To the extraordinary KB and all my friends at the 12_ _th_

Her jaw dropped several inches as she read the line over again. He had dedicated the book to her and her colleagues. But specifically to her—he'd called her out.

Kate was astounded. She had never anticipated him dedicating the book to her—she had never even considered the possibility! But this…

Just as Kate was trying to decide if his kind words altered her feelings towards him, the man in question stepped up behind her and startled her with, "Hey!"

Kate snapped the book cover shut as though she'd been caught snooping in his private diary. "Hey…I was just, uh, the dedication. Wow. Thank you."

He smiled. "Well I meant it; you're extraordinary, and I'm not just saying that because we're…you know. Over the past year I've gotten to know you, been amazed by you and that's where this is coming from. It's truly how I feel."

It took every ounce of her self-control for Kate's jaw not to drop open at his comment. His words were kind, for certain, but his tone was so gentle and almost painfully genuine. He really was amazed by her.

She could feel her entire body flushing and her heart begin to flutter in her chest. Shit—this was not how that evening was supposed to go. She was supposed to show up, say hello, pose for a picture or two and then slip out while hoping that her reputation as a steely female detective in a man's world was still intact. She wasn't supposed to develop _feelings_ for the writer, but that's exactly what she had.

His gentle smile slowly morphed into an expression of slight curiosity the more silence passed between them. She heard his name being called out from across the room by his agent if she was not mistaken and he turned towards the sound, but she held him close by reaching out her hand to touch his arm as she said, "Wait."

He froze and she stared down at the appendage that had moved without her express permission for a moment before sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow and dragging him back several feet so they were in between two bookshelves. It was far from as secluded as she would have liked, but it would be better than completely out in the open.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "Just…don't say anything."

"About what?"

Instead of answering verbally, she slid her hand up over his shoulder and anchored it at the base of his neck so she could pull his mouth into hers. Kate had intended the kiss to be short, quick, and of the thank you variety, but the moment his lips touched hers her body began to hum with electricity. His hands landed at her waist, pulling her in as their lips parted. She could feel the currents pulsating from her Timer shooting directly to her heart. Oddly, this feeling was not uncomfortable but instead made her hum under her breath.

When, after several moments, she slid away from him, she almost laughed at his dumbstruck expression. Instead, she merely dusted her fingers over the lapel of his jacket and said, "Thanks, Castle."

"Ah…yeah…always." He replied dumbly before he stumbled away when Paula summoned him a second time.

Standing in between the book shelves, Kate dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. Damn. She probably should not have kissed him. As she was still uninterested in embarking on a romantic relationship with him the kiss probably sent mixed signals, yet she could not bring herself to regret it; not even a little bit.

* * *

Stepping into the elevator, Castle didn't even wait for the doors to close before he pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. He could already tell this case would be one of his most difficult. When he had arrived at the crime scene that morning, one of the last people he expected to discover was Kyra Blaine, but yet there she was, looking as lovely as ever—in a wedding dress, no less.

As the elevator doors slid shut, he heard his partner clear her throat and opened his eyes to see she was looking at him, but then looked quickly away when he caught her eye. He could feel the curiosity pouring off of her and he couldn't blame her—truly. Had the situation been reversed there was no way he could have waited as long as she before rapid-firing questions at her demanding to know the entire story even though she would be reluctant to give it. In most cases he was all too pleased to provide a tale with almost excessive levels of detail; this was one of the rare exceptions when he did not wish to divulge too much.

Other than his feelings for the lovely detective beside him, Castle's feelings towards Kyra were probably the most honest and true he'd ever had in any relationship. Considering he'd been married twice and had a child from one of those marriages that was truly saying something. She was the first person he fell in love with (youthful puppy-loves aside) and the end of their relationship had certainly left a bitter taste in his mouth. Even nearly two decades later he remembered the hurt.

When he caught Beckett staring at him again he said, "We met in college, dated a few years."

"I didn't ask."

"You were not asking very loudly."

She hummed and turned to face him. "So what happened?"

He dipped his eyes towards his feet as he recalled the day in question. "She left, said she needed space, I was supposed to follow. I thought about it, but wasn't sure—too young and stupid to commit. Then, one night I got a little drunk, was missing her and got a Timer, thinking it would be my big gesture."

"And you didn't match," she said factually.

He shook her head. "No. Kyra had a Timer; mine showed dashes…obviously." At the time, it was like losing her all over again. Had his Timer displayed a countdown clock, he might have felt differently. At least then his future would have been certain—even if it took a few years, but dashes? Dashes had sent him into a tailspin that he didn't get out of until he met Meredith, which, in hindsight, had been a tailspin of its own, just a different kind.

"I'm sorry; that must have been hard."

"It was at the time, but." He paused to gaze over at the detective and drink in her beauty. Now that her hair was longer and back to its natural honey-flecked-chestnut color she had grown even more beautiful—if that was possible. He loved the way it framed her face and moved as she walked; it was one of the many things adding to her allure at any given time. "Things happen for a reason."

As sad as it had been to lose Kyra, it had all been a part of the universe's plan. If Kyra hadn't left, who knew when he would have received his Timer? Having a Timer implanted was a predecessor to meeting Kate, his match, and that was not an event he would have wanted to miss for anything.

* * *

Standing in the conference room at the twelfth precinct, Castle watched with no small amount of sadness as Kyra collected her purse and prepared to walk out of his life for what he knew was the final time. Their case had been solved, but unlike most other times he did not find a sense of pride or accomplishment in it, but disappointment. He had enjoyed Kyra's brief reappearance in his life and the memories of their good times together that it dredged up, but he also knew her leaving was for the best, particularly since she was about to marry another man.

She faced him squarely and offered a smile. "It was nice to see you again, Rick."

He bobbed his head. "You too, Kyra."

"And it was nice to find you happy. And matched." When his brow momentarily wrinkled she added, "Kate—she's your mate, isn't she?"

He dipped his eyes, guilty. "How'd you figure it out?"

"You look at her like you looked at me for a long time, only I don't think she knows it."

Castle let out a breathy noise. He lifted his gaze so he could glance at the detective, who was seated at her desk, through the glass conference room windows. Looking back to his former flame he said, "She's, ah, not exactly interested."

Mirroring his action, Kyra also glanced at Kate and then she smiled at the writer. "Yes she is. Trust me, she is."

He let out an exhale, hoping that was true, before opening his arms to pull her into an embrace. "I'm glad you're happy, Kyra."

She hugged him briefly and then patted his arm. "I'll see you, Rick."

Castle watched her disappear, expecting to see her approach the elevator, but instead she paused at Kate's desk for around thirty seconds before moving down the hall. When he could no longer see her, Castle's eyes drifted back to the detective, who looked oddly perplexed, which made him wonder what exchange she had with Kyra.

Unable to be satisfied without knowing, Castle exited the conference room, shutting the door behind, him, and asked Kate, "What'd she say to you?"

The detective shrugged while not taking her eyes off her computer screen. "Nothing. She just thanked me."

Castle' pursed his lips. Given the brief duration of their interaction, her words made sense, but why would a thank you have caused Kate's brow to wrinkle so? No, he suspected they had said something different to one another, but he also knew the detective would not give it up easily—if at all. Given his slight sadness about his former girlfriend's departure, the writer was not in a sporting mood so he decided to accept it. "Oh. Okay well…I guess I'll see you."

"You okay, Castle?" He heard her ask almost immediately after he turned away. Castle turned back to see her wearing a pleasant smile. She stood from her chair and reached out for her jacket hanging on the back of it. "You wanna…get some ice cream or something?"

He blinked. Was Kate…was she…could she have been asking him out? Was that even possible? Ever since the book party when she had kissed him most unexpectedly he had hoped—prayed—for a change in their relationship. The kiss was magical—life-changing, even, but she'd made him promise not to speak about it and he had obeyed her wishes (even if it killed him!) but if she was asking him out then maybe—well, okay, maybe she wasn't asking him out. Maybe she was just being kind and offering as a friend, but still. That was something—a better something than they'd had before.

Smiling at her he said, "Yeah, Beckett; ice cream would be nice."


	14. Set: Flowers for Your Grave (3 of 3)

**Setting: 1x01 Flowers for Your Grave (Part 3 of 3)**

* * *

"So how long have you two been sleeping together?"

"Wha—I—We're—we're not sleeping together." Kate Beckett stammered as she gaped at Agent Jordan Shaw, a woman whom she had met only hours earlier but was already beginning to dislike. In theory, Kate should have liked Shaw. She was smart and savvy—the federal version of her, so Castle had claimed—but Kate didn't like the FBI treading on her territory, no matter how competent they were. Besides, she was already sick of Castle drooling over the fancy tools the Feds brought with them, which was…petty and absurd of her, but didn't make the tightness in her chest any less. Now this? Now she just assumed she and Castle were…well, that was ridiculous and she was going to put a stop to it.

"He just observes me."

Shaw let out a derisive sound. "Yeah, I've seen how he observes you."

"It's for research." Kate added in a fruitless attempt at defense.

Castle poked his head in between the two front seats and said, "No, she's right. Aside from my second wife, this is the most sexless relationship I've had—at least, so far."

Kate rolled her eyes hard at the smirk the writer gave her.

Shaw seemed unconvinced. "Really? I've been profiling people for a long time and I'm hardly ever wrong."

"Well you're not entirely." Castle assured her. "We might not be sleeping together, but we are Timer mates."

"Castle!" Kate hissed, but the writer seemed unfazed. He always picked the most inopportune moments to reveal that little fact. As far as she was concerned, it could be taken to the grave and not bother her one bit. He, on the other hand, found little ways to work it in here and there especially if Timers came up in their case in any way, however miniscule.

The agent's eyes widened. "Timer-mates who aren't sleeping together? That may be a first."

"Hardly." Kate scoffed.

Even the writer seemed to agree. "Statistically unlikely, but certainly not a first."

"I see…"

As Shaw looked away with a smirk, Kate folded her arms over her chest and gazed out the vehicle's windshield. So she had no interest in being with her Timer-mate—so what? She understood that was unlikely as nearly everyone she knew had dropped everything to begin a relationship with whomever they were matched with—even if they were involved with someone else at the time. In Kate's mind, that was ridiculous. Just because a hunk of metal on her wrist told her something did not mean she had to believe it; it was ridiculous. What proof was there that it was even legitimate? Yeah, yeah she'd read the research—pheromones, electrical impulses—all that jazz, but it could have been totally fake! True, she didn't know any Timer matched couples that were unhappy or who had broken up, but they absolutely could exist somewhere and she didn't want to be one of them.

If she was going to be in a relationship with someone—in love with someone—it was going to be on her own terms and because it was something she wanted—not something Castle wanted or something Shaw wanted, but her—and she just hadn't found that yet.

* * *

"Thank god this case is over."

Castle sighed as he walked into the loft apartment, Kate just a few steps behind him. As he reached out to shut the door, he felt an uncomfortable pinch in his shoulder and groaned. Okay, perhaps he was a bit more injured than he realized from body-slamming his way into Kate's flaming apartment. He'd do it all again to save her, of course, but perhaps a few days respite was warranted—like he'd turn down an opportunity to play video games and order take-out.

Kate shrugged off her coat and Castle took it from her silently and draped it over the clothes tree by the door. "You can say that again. Granted, now I have to find a new apartment so…" Her voice drifted off as she frowned.

Castle stepped up beside her. "True, but you don't have to rush—not at all. Seriously." He continued at her skeptical expression. "Now that Mother is half moved out we have plenty of space. Take your time."

As far as Castle was concerned, Kate could never move out and he would be fine with that. She could live in the guest room until she moved into his bedroom since he still saw their future together as a certainty not a maybe. They'd already been getting closer since the case involving his ex-girlfriend. They had dinner together a few times a week and had even gone to a movie once, which to him meant her staunch resistance to their coupling was finally beginning to wane. Cohabitating would only serve to progress them further, so he was all for it.

Instead of reacting negatively, she offered a smile. "Thanks, Castle I appreciate that…and everything else you did. Including trying to save my life."

"I believe I successfully saved your life." He corrected politely.

She shrugged. "You know what I meant."

"Of course. And there wasn't even a question you're-"

"I know what I am." She cut him off, turning away, but he refused to allow it, reaching out to place his hand gently on her bicep. She stopped and turned to him, curious.

"Do you? I wasn't going to say Timer-mate, Kate. This is bigger than that. You're my partner. You're my best friend. If I'd lost you…" He paused to shake his head at the notion too painful to comprehend. "I don't want to think about how devastating that would have been. So, no, there wasn't a question. I'd run into a burning building to save you, anytime, anywhere."

He spoke the words with the purest of intentions because they were one hundred percent factual. The partnership they had built together was bigger than just being Timer-mates. They were no longer two people simply fated to be together, but two people connected—two people whose lives were intertwined. He could name several members of her family and knew all about how her mother's murder had affected her life. He knew her favorite meal and the songs she liked to listen to when she was feeling down. He knew _her_ and he loved her. In Castle's mind, a life without Kate Beckett would not have been a life at all, which was the reason he ran into a burning building to rescue her and the reason he would do it time and time again if required.

For the better part of thirty seconds she gazed at him silently, her chest rising and falling at intervals a bit faster than normal. Then, without warning, she stepped forward, rose up on her toes, cradled his jaw with her hand and pressed their lips together. Castle was so stunned by the action that he barely kissed her back and his hands hovered at her sides instead of bracketing her waist. When she lowered herself down on her heels and looked at him, he noticed something different in her eyes—a fire that hadn't been there before.

"Kate?" he questioned, but she shook her head and insisted, "Shh," before grabbing the lapels of his jacket and dragging his lips down to hers once more.

* * *

Lying in Castle's bed on her stomach, her arm draped across his chest as he dusted lazy circles across her skin, Kate could not help but think, however begrudgingly, that Jordan Shaw was right to be shocked that they were Timer-mates who weren't sleeping together. Had she known just how un-freaking-believable it would be, she probably would have dragged him into bed sooner.

Well, no, she wouldn't have; that wasn't her style, but had she known how unbelievable it would be, she seriously would have considered it sooner. Then again, maybe they had waited for the perfect time—their perfect time. Not the one dictated by a Timer or anything else; the moment that was right for them.

Kate would not have been truthful if she said she had developed no feelings for the writer over their time together. He was…rather indescribable. Annoying, yes; he seemed to find glee in pushing every one of her buttons. But he was also kind, and sweet, and, as it turned out, a daring rescuer. Had it not been for his phone call, Kate was not sure she would have survived the blast in her apartment, and she was grateful for that, but also for how he had treated her.

Ever since their one and only kiss things had been different between them. She knew he wanted more, but he kept a respectful distance, never initiating physical contact and trying (though not always succeeding) not to pry too much into her personal life. In the more recent weeks he'd been a bit bolder—hugging her and sometimes even snagging her hand as they walked down the sidewalk together, but she couldn't say she minded it. It was actually…nice.

When he spoke those kind words to her, Kate could feel the shift in her heart. He, the man who loved the concept of Timers and believed in them whole-heartedly, had not sighted the object as the reason he saved her, but instead gave a beautiful explanation. She could feel the armor around her heart drop away and wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss him and thank him physically for what he had done. She had no idea just how _incredible_ it would be. Beyond incredible, actually. She had never heard anyone talk about it before, but it was almost as though the Timer knew what they were doing and caused an extra electrical impulse during her climax making it more intense than she'd ever felt before.

Yeah, they were definitely going to do that again. And again…and again…

"Can I ask you something?"

Kate had been so close to sleep that the writer's voice half-startled her. Humming out to him in response, she pushed herself from her stomach to her right side so that she could look at him, but left her left arm draped over his chest.

He gazed at her, a little tentative. "Is this…is this just a 'thanks for saving my life' type thing? Or are we finally going to give this a shot?"

She felt her skin prickle at the question. She was still hesitant—very hesitant—to be in a relationship with anyone, but Castle wasn't anyone; he was her partner. He made her happy; he made her laugh even when she thought laughing was impossible. And she owed it to him, to herself, and what they could be to commit. "I…I'd like to give this a shot."

The writer's face brightened unlike she'd ever seen before. "Yeah?"

Now embarrassed, she pulled her hand back and used it to tuck the sheet up around her neck. "Try not to look too excited, Castle."

"But I am excited!" He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her. "This is what I've wanted—what I've been waiting for!"

Her brow wrinkled at his comment. Surely he didn't mean… "You…waited?"

He nodded. "Sixteen months."

Kate felt her face flush with heat and she averted her gaze, sliding a few inches away from him. "I told you I wasn't..."

His hand landed on her arm and she turned her tentative eyes back to see his shone bright still. "I know. But the Timer means something to me…besides, it didn't take me that long to fall in love with you for real."

Though he grinned, Kate felt as though she'd been shocked with a cattle prod. Love? He was in love with her? She had barely just accepted the fact that they could begin a relationship—a tentative, slow-moving relationship. But he was in love with her? How was she supposed to react to that?

"What's wrong?" she heard him ask as she rolled away and began to creep her way towards the edge of the bed, trying desperately to remember where her bra and panties had been tossed. And of course she didn't have an apartment to escape to; her former home was charcoal. The best she could do was the upstairs guest room. Shit.

She shook her head as she slipped out of bed, using one arm to cover her breasts. "Maybe we shouldn't have…"

The writer sat upright. "Whoa hey stop. No. Is this just because I said I loved you? Isn't that a good thing?"

He sounded perplexed and she could not say she entirely blamed him. She could imagine many women who would be overjoyed at hearing that a rich, handsome man was in love with them, but she was not one of them; that wasn't how her mind worked. She looked at him, but when she saw the hurt on his face she turned back to the clothing-gathering task at hand. "Not when I'm not ready, Castle."

"Then forget I said it."

She roughly tugged up her panties and shoved her shirt on her head before saying, "But you did."

"Kate-"

"Please." She held up her hand to stop his protest. "I just need some time." With that, she scurried out of his bedroom still only half-dressed, praying she would not run into his daughter on the way.

* * *

The following morning, Castle reluctantly dragged himself from bed after a rather fitful night of sleep. For the first part of the night he was disappointed with himself for blurting out the "L" word and causing Kate, a woman he knew to be skittish when it came to matters of the heart, to flee his bedroom faster than if he'd insulted their lovemaking. He should have known better than to say that, but he was being honest.

The longer he thought about it, he felt less disappointed in himself and more in her. Why was she so averse to hearing how he truly felt? He was not demanding that she say it back to him; he was under no delusion that she would and he was fine with that. He did not want to be upset with himself for honesty, but he also wished that reacted better. Perhaps, he hoped, that day they could talk things through.

As he exited the bedroom, Castle discovered his new roommate sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed under her, steaming mug in her hand. Considering he did not smell coffee—a scent his nose was well adapted to pick up—he presumed it to be tea. As she lifted the mug to her lips, he could see dark circles beneath her eyes and a sunken, weariness in her cheeks.

"You sleep okay?" he asked mostly rhetorically—just as a way to begin a conversation.

Her eyes flicked in his direction. "No."

He cleared his throat and sat down a cushion away from her. "Want to talk about it?"

Her index finger skimmed around the lip of her coffee mug. "I don't know if I can," she said, her voice almost invisible.

Scooting a bit closer, Castle spoke softly. "If you don't want to talk about it now, that's fine. We can talk later, or tomorrow, or next week or—it doesn't matter. The point is, Kate, I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything." They were partners and, in his mind, a couple. Kate hadn't left his apartment the night before when she could have and to him that meant she was afraid, but interested and so he would support her in any way he could—in any way she wanted.

Castle remained beside her for almost a full minute, but when she said nothing, he stood and went to the kitchen to make himself coffee. Not in the mood to make eggs or pancakes, he pulled a packet of brown sugar PopTarts from the pantry and toasted them. He put each pastry on a separate plate and took them, along with his coffee, to the couch. When he offered Kate the plate she took it with a quiet thank you and broke off a piece to put in her mouth. They had been sitting together for almost three minutes before she spoke again.

"I…I don't like the Timer because I don't like being in love."

"I—oh." Castle faltered when he was not sure how to respond to her comment. For him, such a concept was unimaginable. Yes, he'd had his dark moments—particularly when finding out about both his wives' extramarital affairs—but he had never sworn off love completely. He had always had more of a "dust yourself off and get back up" approach to romance. He also found great joy in being in love with a beautiful woman, particularly when that woman was the lovely one beside him.

Considering her comment further, the writer could think of only one response. "If you feel that way, why did you get a Timer at all?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "I got the Timer when I was in high school, like everyone else. I don't like being in love since my mom died… I just don't want to hurt like that again."

"But Timer-mates are different." In his mind, a Timer-mate wasn't some fair-weather relationship where one person could be more invested than the other and thus led to heartbreak. Timer-mates or, as he liked to think of them, soulmates, were meant for each other and that kind of agony simply could not happen.

"Are they? People can still hurt you. You did. Sorry—that wasn't fair." She added quickly after his eyes flared wide.

Castle brushed his hand over his chin. As far as he was aware, the only time he hurt her was when he looked into her mother's case against her wishes. That had been foolish and disrespectful of him, but it had absolutely nothing to do with how he felt about her. "I hurt you because I was being an idiot, but I didn't romantically hurt you. And I wouldn't."

She shook her head and looked away. "You can't know that."

"I can. You know both my ex-wives cheated on me, right? I'm a pretty loyal guy, Kate," he said, trying his best to conceal his hurt; he thought she knew him better than that.

Looking back to him, she explained, "I'm not talking about cheating. I'm saying…what if we just fall out of love?"

He huffed out a breath through his nostrils. "What if an asteroid hits us tomorrow?" When her brow narrowed he softened his tone and expression. "I see your point but we can't live our lives for the million 'what ifs' that exist. You need to find happiness for the moment. You don't want to be reckless about it? That's fine, but this isn't reckless."

Unable to stop himself, he reached out and placed his hand gently on her arm. She didn't recoil from him, but she also didn't seem all that accepting, so he tried a different approach. "Let me ask you something: if you hate the Timer and you didn't want to be in love, why didn't you get it removed?"

Her eyes moved from his hand on her arm to meet his gaze. "You've asked me this before."

He nodded; he had actually done so on several occasions—mostly back in the beginning of their relationship, before she'd blacklisted the Timer subject all together. "Yeah but you never answered."

Kate leaned forward and placed her tea mug and now-empty PopTart plate on the coffee table. When she sat back against the sofa again, she flipped her right arm over so that the Timer displayed clearly. She touched the base of it with her left index finger as she spoke. "Because…when I went to get it removed they told me I could never have another one implanted."

Castle placed his mug and plate next to hers before clasping his hands together and leaning against his thighs. Well, that was interesting. He could not say he was stunned to hear she had investigated Timer removal, particularly given the conversation they were having, but her answer spoke volumes. "That tells me that you want to be in love, you're just afraid of it."

He watched as she rearranged her legs so that her feet were flat against the sofa cushions and her knees bent. In that position, she could easily lean forward and tuck her forehead against her thighs and bury her face there. "I'm sorry; I'm really screwed up," he heard her say, though it was muffled.

Castle scooted close enough to kiss her head gently and place his hand in the center of her back. "No, you're not."

Instead of shying away, she leaned her body into his, unfolded herself, and tucked her head against his shoulder. When her arm slid across his belly to hook around his waist she said, "I do care about you, Castle."

"I know."

"And you're my best friend, too."

"Glad to hear it." He responded, giving her shoulders a little squeeze.

She exhaled and tucked herself a bit closer to him. "You're right. I do want a relationship, a family, but I'm scared."

His lips grazed the top of her head. "This isn't a marriage proposal, Kate; we can take things as slow as you want, but can we at least try?"

As she hugged him even tighter, he heard the one word that made his heart lift with joy. "Okay."

* * *

Castle sighed as he sunk down on the bed beside his girlfriend. She was curled in a ball on her side of the bed, her still-wet hair splayed out against the pillow, her hands practically strangling the sheet against her chest. She hadn't spoken much since he'd got her home and into the shower to wash off the blood and for that he couldn't blame her. He hated himself for not realizing sooner just who Dick Coonan really was. Had he done so, he could have saved her the heartache and maybe, just maybe, her mother's assassin would have told them who hired him. Or, at the very least, he'd be in a prison cell and not a drawer at the morgue.

Scooting closer to her feet, he stretched out beside her, propping himself up on his elbow. He placed a delicate hand on her arm and stroked it for several moments before saying, "I know you're upset and this probably seems like a devastating blow – I won't deny it's a setback, but we'll find a new lead; we'll figure this out I promise you."

They already knew more than they had before. Someone—some horrible, evil individual—hired a hit on Kate's mother. Johanna's death was not an accident, which he discovered during his ill-fated dive into the case two years prior—an event that had nearly ended his relationship with the lovely detective before it even began. Now they had proof that was the case and if they knew the person who was hired, they had a clear path to find out who did the hiring.

"That's not why I'm upset."

He flattened his lips and stopped stroking her arm. Oh, right; she was upset with him. If he hadn't intervened, if he hadn't stuck his nose in trying to be the cop he wasn't Kate wouldn't have had to shoot Coonan to save him; she would have been interrogating the bastard at that very moment. "I'm sorry; I know I shouldn't have meddled in the case and that in a way this is partially-"

She flipped onto her back with such force he pulled his hand back and leaned away from her, bracing himself for the yelling that was about to take place, but it never came.

"No, Castle; I'm upset because you almost got hurt today. Coonan could have killed you and then…" Her bottom lip trembled and she shook her head. "Then we wouldn't get to have our ending."

His brow wrinkled. "Ending? What ending?"

She lifted her right arm and thrust her wrist towards his face. "This—our happy ending; our future."

Castle remained at a loss for words for several seconds. Their happy ending? Their future? That meant she could only be talking about one thing—the thing she had made him swear up and down never to mention: the Timer.

Ten months earlier when they had embarked on their relationship officially, Kate had requested that Castle not bring up the Timer or the fact that they were mates in conversation—not between them and not to anyone else. The people that already knew—their families, her coworkers—were fine, but he was not to reveal their status to anyone else. As he was simply happy to be in a relationship with her, he agreed. Besides, he saw her point—it really was no one else's business, and he would respect her wishes.

Though he had almost slipped up several dozen times he respected her wishes and did not mention it or the fact that they were soulmates—not even when she finally told him that she loved him six months into their relationship. But now—now! If she was bringing up the Timer—the fact that it indicated they had a future and, dare he think it, a "happily ever after" then maybe…oh, god, maybe…

Rick reached out, took her right hand, and kissed her wrist just above where her Timer was implanted. Brushing his thumb across her palm, he gazed down at her. "We can still have that, Kate. We can. We can start right now if you…will you marry me?" His heart was thundering in his chest, but the words were out there and he couldn't take them back. Was it too soon? Maybe, but god he wanted it and he hoped she wanted it as well.

She twisted her body to roll away from him, back on to her right side, taking his hand with her and tucking it around her body. For several seconds he thought she wouldn't respond at all, but then she gave a very clear, strong, "Yes."

Tears immediately sprung to his eyes and he collapsed his body around hers, pressing his lips to her cheek. "Oh, Kate. I love you so much."

"I love you, too." She sniffed before turning her head so their lips could meet. When she pulled back she wore a soft smile.

Castle's expression mirrored hers. "You're okay with this right? It's not too soon?"

"Do you think it's too soon?"

He shook his head. "I've been trying to marry you since the day we met."

She laughed. "I'm kind of glad I made you wait."

He kissed her again and snuggled in close. Though he'd never give her the satisfaction by admitting it aloud, he was glad too; it made him love her even more than he ever thought possible.

* * *

 **A/N:** I really cannot even begin to express my gratitude for everyone's reviews & kind words. Your enthusiasm for this story exceeded my expectations by 1000% if not higher. Clearly-as this was meant to be a one or two shot and turned into 14 chapters.

thank you so very much. please let me know in the reviews which Timers were your favorites! (or message me on twitter or tumblr!)

Thanks


	15. Set: Post Boom

**A/N:** This is a one-time revisit only. I hope you all enjoy this new addition to the Timer universe, and you can send all your gratitude to the Guest who reviewed this fic with the prompt that made me go "Holy crap - why didn't i think of that!"

* * *

 **Timer – Post "Boom"**

Richard Castle whistled as he jogged up the stairs in his apartment, bound to check in on his house guest. Yes, Kate Beckett was his _guest_ amazing as that was to believe. They were about to embark on her third night in the loft and he could not have been happier about it. How long she would remain was yet to be determined, but he didn't much care how long she spent there. He would have even gone so far as to say the longer the better, but this was Beckett, so he needed to pace himself; they would take it one day at a time.

Barely two days earlier, Castle had, for a few very brief, terrifying moments, believed that he would never see his partner alive again. As he'd been on the street watching fireballs explode out of her apartment, he'd been nearly paralyzed with horror. Thanks to his phone call not a minute earlier, she was able to safely dive into her cast iron bathtub and escape almost all harm. Her apartment, on the other hand, had not been so lucky.

Even if the Twelfth Precinct's captain had not suggested it, Castle still would have offered Beckett a bed in his home. What kind of partner—and gentleman! —would he have been otherwise? Though he would have offered, he was not convinced his stubborn companion would have accepted. As such, he was glad for Montgomery's meddling for there was no place he would have rather had his partner than safe under his roof—even if the danger had dissipated now that their case was closed.

Castle paused at the top of the stairs and collected himself. He didn't want to seem _too_ eager to hang out with her. They definitely needed to ease in to their outside-of-work relationship, but he was more than up to the challenge. For Kate Beckett, he would have patience for days. He was merely going to ask if she was interested in a nightcap or perhaps just a cup of tea before retiring. They could talk or simply enjoy each other's company as they had the prior night; he was more than fine with either.

He almost started tip-toeing down the upstairs hall, but then reminded himself that would be creepy. Instead, he did his best to plaster on a casual face, intent on tapping his knuckles gently on the doorframe of the guest room and maintaining a jovial demeaner, only to be taken slightly off-guard when he spotted her in the guest bathroom. Though he only saw her from the corner of his eye, he could tell she was frazzled.

When he stopped walking and observed for a few seconds, Castle realized that Kate must have bathed and was attempting to re-wrap the bandage on her arm. Even though it was her dominant hand doing the work, the task was extremely difficult with just one hand. She seemed to be employing some sort of using-the-counter-as-a-second-hand approach but judging from the array of materials spread around the room, he didn't think it was working.

Without thought he stepped into the bathroom doorway and said, "Here; let me help with that."

She didn't even look at him as she tried her best to wrap the bandage. "I'm fine."

"Really?" he retorted, which earned him a slight glare from beneath her brow-line. "C'mon Kate—if I help it'll only take two minutes."

She stared at him for ten seconds before relenting and rounding her shoulders with another grunt. "Fine."

Castle fought the urge to smile at his partner's grumpy attitude. While he understood her frustration and would have felt similarly, he was still basking in the glow of her not only staying with him but _still being alive_ and thus was back to his doe-eyed early stages of their relationship where almost everything she did was adorable to him. He stepped up beside her, not missing one beat, and picked the bandage materials from beside the sink. He then reached out to grasp her forearm and pull her injured hand closer to him. Though he tried to be very gentle, he did hear her hiss out with discomfort.

"Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Not really—it's just a little sore."

"I'll be very gentle; I promise." He smiled reassuringly then examined her hand and wrist. The swelling had certainly gone down, though that only made the bruises more apparent. She really had slammed her wrist against the side of the tub; the poor thing.

Just as he began to drape the bandage over the back of her hand so he could begin the wrap she said, "You know I…I'll only need to stay here another night, maybe two, and then—I mean, I'm sure you want me out of your hair."

His response was immediate and enthusiastic. "Perish the thought! You are welcome to stay as long as you need." Of course, he knew his partner well enough to know that sooner or later her need for her own space would win out, but seeing as he enjoyed them spending time together, he could not help himself for encouraging such a scenario along.

"My insurance company will pay for a hotel."

"Hotel? You wound me Beckett!" He insisted and then winked as a clear sign he was joking. Realizing he was struggling a bit with the bandage, he gently rotated her forearm so that he could wrap it with her palm facing up. "I mean why would you choose a ho…" His voice drifted off when he spotted a peculiar spot on the delicate flesh of her inner arm. No, not a spot—a scar, and a particularly angry looking one at that. Without giving much thought to the fact that while she was reluctantly permitting him to assist her, she definitely would not permit further exploration, Castle brushed his thumb lightly beside the spot.

Kate's reaction was to instantly try and wrench her arm away from him, but due to the bandage and his grip, they all became entangled together, which resulted in her crying out. "Cas—AH! Shit!"

"Careful." He chastised in his rarely-scene fatherly tone. "Sprains can be worse than breaks."

"It's fine—you know I can probably just do this myse-"

"Kate." He huffed out a breath at the resurgence of her stubbornness. They stared at each other for ten seconds before she reluctantly held her arm out once more.

"I'll be more careful, I promise," he said, thinking he had accidentally grasped her wrist too firmly without realizing, for certainly the scar could not hurt a severely as her actions demonstrated. While the mark was slightly raised, it wasn't swollen or red; it blended so well with her skin, he was not surprised he had not seen it before. Those traits led him to conclude that the mark was from an injury at least several years in the past. Once again, his insuppressible curiosity got the best of him. "Pretty gnarly scar you've got there."

"I guess."

"What's it from?"

"Nothing important; it's just a scar."

"Just a scar." He repeated with a scoff. "Scars aren't just scars, Beckett. They're like…bookmarks in the pages of our story. Each one represents an event—a memory. True, most have negative connotations, but I think a surprising amount of time the scars actually…"

Castle's voice drifted off as he reached out with his left hand to pick up a piece of medical tape to secure the gauze wrap. In doing so he caught sight of his own inner wrist as it crossed over Kate's during the reach. Staring back at him from that spot was the silver metallic Timer displaying the series of red dashes it had for many years. Instantly, his brain began to spin.

The scar on Kate's wrist was perfectly horizontal and almost rectangular in shape. It was perhaps half an inch wide and two inches across; the exact size and shape of a Timer—an item that Kate did not possess.

Not quite two decades earlier the scientific community had made a rather remarkable breakthrough with regards to the science of love and relationships. They'd developed a device that could tap into not only a person's physiological responses to a situation, but the fabric of the universe itself. The device, when implanted into the wrist, would count down to the moment when a person would meet their best mate—assuming that person also had a Timer. Otherwise, the Timer would be blank until the time at which both mate's Timers were activated. Once you met up with your mate— _soulmate_ as they had become colloquially known—the Timer would display the date on which you met.

A few years after discovery, when they Timers had first been mass-marketed to the public, Castle had been married to his first wife Meredith. While the technology intrigued him, he refrained from purchasing such a device, thinking it would put the final nail in the coffin of his already strained relationship. After he discovered Meredith's extramarital affair, however, he went directly to a Timer store and for three glorious months his Timer had counted down to a date in his thirty-eighth year. Then…well, things changed. As such, he didn't think about his Timer too much, but as it was staring directly at him, Castle could not help but wonder if maybe—

"Castle!"

"Wha—What?" Startled, he jumped slightly and part of the gauze unraveled from her wrist.

"What are you doing? Did you have a stroke or something?"

"Ah—shit." He cursed beneath his breath when he realized he'd been frozen and staring for probably the better part of a minute. "No, sorry—sorry. I'll be finished in a minute…" With that, he went back to his dutiful work, pushing all thoughts of Kate's scar to the back of his mind; he would focus again on those later.

* * *

It just had to be a Timer scar—it _had to be_!

At least, that's what Castle had convinced himself twenty-four hours later. He had spent the better part of that time thinking about—Okay, obsessing over—all the possible explanations for such a scar. Of course there were many. Scars could come from any number of scenarios or situations, but his gut told him this scar was far beyond ordinary. True, she could have cut herself climbing a fence or chasing down a perp, but the odds were against such situations. The scar was perfectly horizontal and did not seem to stretch too far to one side or the other; it was centered. Scars from trauma were rarely so neat.

The more he thought about the possible explanations, Castle returned again and again to his conclusion that Kate must have had a Timer that was removed. The only problem with his theory was that as far as he was aware, Kate Beckett believed Timers to be ridiculous. They hadn't discussed it much mostly, he felt, due to the fact that the subject was not his favorite, but when it did come up her distain was obvious. Considering she was not a heart-on-her-sleeve type and the device was almost literally that, he could not say this shocked him, thus he wondered why she would have had one at all. The only possible reasoning was that they would have been very popular when she was in her mid-teens and perhaps she had been caught up in all of it during her youthful innocence.

Whatever the case, Castle wanted to know the answer desperately, but he was afraid to upset the balance of what was an otherwise enjoyable stay she was having. In fact, that morning she had asked him to help her with the bandage that had loosened in the night. _She_ asked _him_! Without him having to drop over-dramatic hints about it either! In his mind, this was excellent progress and he didn't want to ruin it by making a big, dumb, observation that might—

"Castle!"

Startled by the sharp call of his name, the writer jumped and, as a result, rammed his shoulder rather sharply against the bookcase he'd been standing next to. Grumbling and wincing, he rubbed his right hand over his left shoulder and took a step forward out of his office and into the main living area asking, "What is it?"

The woman seated as his kitchen table with her laptop beside her and a mug of tea cradled in her hand turned only enough so that she could shoot him one of her infamous glares. "I can feel you staring at me."

"I'm not," he replied, though strictly speaking he was. Not that he was purposefully staring at her—not exactly anyway. He'd been thinking about her scar as he sat at his desk. Then, when he saw her take a seat at the table, he tried _not_ to think about her scar, fearing that she could use her Kate Beckett powers to read his mind. Instead, he tried to focus on Nikki Heat's latest tale, but he felt his brain being pulled in different directions. He'd begun to pace his office and then somehow wandered his way over to the doorway. Thus, he wasn't staring at her so much as looking in her general direction while thinking about her—at least, that's what he told himself.

The detective huffed out a breath, put her now-empty mug down on the table, and then stood up so she could face him. "C'mon—what is it?"

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing; you've been staring for an hour."

"Wha—it's been fifteen minutes—max!" He squeaked out insistently, to which she arched one eyebrow, clearly challenging him now that he'd inadvertently incriminated himself. He opened his mouth to protest, but then realized she'd trapped him, and shut his lips once more.

"Right so either spit it out or go stare someplace else."

Sucking in a deep breath for confidence, Castle took two steps towards her and rushed out, "Was it a Timer?" in such a huff he was certain she had barely understood him—if she had at all.

Predictably, her brow wrinkled. "Excuse me?"

With a bit more care, he gestured towards the arms folded over her chest and began again, "The scar on your arm. Left side, several inches back from the wrist. Long and thin. Did it used to be a Timer?"

She stared at him for ten seconds before shaking her head. "It's just a scar, Castle."

He took a step further, feeling emboldened by the fact that she did not outright shut him down. "You would have been…what? Fifteen or sixteen when they first came out? Bet you and all your friends got caught up in the hype—you all probably went out together, so excited to have them all shiny and new on your wrists. And then maybe you—" Castle cut off his speech as the story formed immediately inside his mind. Yes, the scar was from a Timer and he knew the exact reason she had it removed.

As though she had read his mind, Kate cautioned him, "Don't," but of course he was too consumed with is realization to notice.

"Your mother-"

"Castle."

"When she died you were-"

"Stop!"

Though in another circumstance he may have persisted, something inside Castle's brain told him that he needed to stop and not push at the risk of destroying what progress they made, so as much as it pained him, he held up his hands defensively and said, "Okay."

Still clearly miffed, Kate whipped around and shut the screen of her laptop, announcing, "I'm going to bed."

"Please," he continued in a softer tone, though he did not dare to take a step closer to her. "I don't mean to kick you out. I'll go in my office and I'll stay there—I promise. Just…" He paused for a moment, sucked in a deep breath and told her, "I'm truly sorry you had to go through something like that." Losing her mother in any circumstance would have been difficult enough, but the violence and viciousness of the way the Johanna was lost surely amplified that hurt more than he could ever imagine.

With that, he walked into his office and sat down at his desk, determined to focus on something—anything—that was not Kate Beckett.

* * *

Grumbling and mumbling to himself, Castle awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. He blinked rapidly and focused on his surroundings, glancing around the darkness of his room until he discovered the source of why he'd been pulled from sleep: terrible heartburn. So that leftover extra spicy burrito really had been a terrible 9 PM snack.

Castle groped into the drawer in the nightstand beside him for the bottle of antacids he kept there. He rummaged around until he found it, then opened the cap on the bottle and shook a few into his mouth. Instantly, he realized this was a mistake, because the excess dust from the chalky antacids had clouded into his mouth causing him to choke. He sat up, half choking and half chewing on the antacids, and caught sight of the clock. 2:17 AM. _Great_.

Knowing there was no drink available on his nightstand, Castle shuffled his way across the apartment and into the kitchen, where he pulled a water bottle from the fridge. He gulped down the cool liquid to sooth his clogged throat. Just as he turned to close the refrigerator door and return to bed, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Thinking he surely must have been hallucinating, Castle took a step towards the shadow by the window and stared at it only to see it move again—that time he was certain of it.

Every muscle in his body sized up as he mentally reviewed the area for weapons. Kitchen—he was in the kitchen, so there were knives, but where on the counter was the knife block? Could he get to the knives before whomever was in the window got to him?

The shadow by the window moved again and that time it spoke. "It's just me."

"Jesus!" Castle yelped when he realized his terrifying intruder was actually just his partner. He groped his way to the center of the kitchen and flicked on the switch for the island lighting. After blinking a few times to adjust to the new light, he spotted his partner looking a bit sheepish as she sat on the bench in front of the bank of windows. She wore and NYPD sweatshirt and what appeared to be pajama pants.

"Sorry."

He shook off her apology and instead felt concerned as to why she was up in the middle of the night. She had arrived home from her shift after ten and he'd offered her a drink or something to eat, but she'd politely refused and said she was going to take a shower and go to bed, so he'd bid her goodnight without second thought. Now, in hindsight, he wondered if she'd had a bad day—a bad case—and if he should have asked for more details. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just couldn't sleep and I…I didn't want to be in a strange bed anymore. Sorry!" She quickly apologized before he could open his mouth to say a word. "I—please don't be offended. I appreciate your hospitality so much, Castle."

He shook his head gently as he had not taken offense to her statement. Were there situations reversed and he was staying with her—or any other friend—instead of his own place because his place had quite literally been destroyed, he imagined he would have felt similarly. Perhaps not about his bed as he had been blessed with the sleep-anywhere gene, but his stuff; he would definitely miss his stuff. "I understand; sometimes you just want to be in your space."

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah, except mine is charcoal."

He winced at the description, however valid it was. "Is that what you were thinking about? The blast?"

She gave a little shrug as he took a few steps closer to her. "Yes, off and on, but…actually you got me thinking about this." Much to his utter surprise, she rolled up the left sleeve of her sweatshirt to reveal the inside of her left wrist. It appeared she had not put her bandage back on after her shower, which meant her arm was fully exposed to him. In the dim light filtering in through the street, he could not clearly see the scar, but his heart fluttered in anticipation of where their conversation was headed.

After a moment she looked him squarely in the eye and confessed, "You're right; it was a Timer that I had removed very shortly after my mother's death. I didn't… I just wanted the hurting to stop, so I thought that meant I couldn't feel anything again—not even good things."

"So you regret it?"

She gazed down at the mark for a moment as though doing so would allow the answer to populate as text onto her skin. Then, with a shrug she said, "Honestly? I don't think about it that much. It's not like every day I'm pining away for it. Probably hadn't thought about it in a few months until you saw the scar. But I… I suppose if I had the chance to do it again I wouldn't get it removed, especially since I can't get a new one."

"You…can't?"

She shook her head. "They're a once and done type deal."

"Oh. I didn't know," he said, which surprised him, because he had done a decent amount of research into Timers and their functionality. "Then again, I never really heard of anyone who had theirs removed. Perhaps that's why."

"Yeah. Sorry I know you don't like to talk about Timers either."

"Oh, it's not that. It's…" He let his voice drift off as the subject of Timers was certainly a touchy one in his mind. He wanted to love them—and certainly had enjoyed his when it was first implanted, but ever since he'd discovered that the sudden appearance of dashes on his Timer display most likely meant that his mate had died…well, the subject was a touchy one to say the least.

"Don't get me wrong – I love the concept of soulmates and if it had worked out for me, I'd be thrilled but… but with so many people on this earth, it's hard for me to imagine there aren't several I would be extremely happy with. I mean—I did get married twice."

She smiled. "Right."

"And, yes, of course I get sad sometimes about the fact that she di…"

Castle froze, mid-word and stared at his partner—the continuation of the bad habit he'd been exhibiting as of late, but he couldn't help it as the most shocking realization just entered his mind.

Oh. God. Oh god. How had he not seen it? How had he not realized? He'd been so focused on the presumed death of his soulmate that he had done the exact thing he promised himself he never would; he had forgotten to focus on the story—the _whole_ story. Now that he thought about it, the concept was— _Oh, god_ —so unbelievably—

"Castle?"

Noting the ring of concern in her voice, the writer turned back to his companion and began to speak his thoughts aloud. "Died…but what if she…and I never realized it was possible…but what if—what if!"

"You're not making any sense."

Oh—oh! The more he thought about it, it actually could not have been more perfect. Suddenly everything was making sense. "Oh my god, Beckett do you know what this could mean?"

"No," she said in the most genuine tone he'd ever heard from her.

Still consumed with his own discovery, he explained no further. Instead, he grabbed her left hand and practically dragged her from the bench, across the apartment, and into his office where he began rummaging in his desk. "Your mother—she died in 1999 and you had the Timer removed the same year?"

"Yeah…"

"When?"

"I don't know—what's going on Castle?"

He ignored her question and cursed when the item he sought was not in the drawer he expected it to be. Getting down on his knees, he began to rummage through the one beneath it. "Well was it spring? Summer? Were you still in school?"

"Yea—yeah I had it done when I was still in California. Why—what are—"

"Ah HAH!" Castle proclaimed when he finally pulled the well-worn spiral-bound notebook from its hiding place. He opened the front cover and tapped his index finger near the top of the page. "Could it possibly have been April 23, 1999 around 3:50 in the afternoon?"

She blinked at him. "Why?"

His heart thundering beneath his ribs, Castle said, "Because that's the day my Timer turned to dashes; the day I thought my soulmate died." She looked at him without blinking for fifteen seconds, so he took a step closer, leafed through a few pages in the notebook, found the one he was looking for, and then held it out to her so she could see.

"I heard the beep from my wrist and was…confused, utterly confounded. Of course the Internet was practically worthless back then, so I went to the nearest Timer store thinking mine had somehow malfunctioned. I spoke to the store manager, explained with happened, and that's when he told me that my mate must have died. I was…crushed. Angry. Confused. So I did what I always do: I tried to find the story.

"It took me years, but I looked into every person I could find with that exact date of death. Then, I used my connections to find coroners reports to find the exact time of death. This is the list—everyone in the United States who died on April twenty-third. Well, everyone who I didn't automatically eliminate like anyone under eighteen, and anyone over fifty, because it was unlikely for that demographic to have a Timer at that time. Plus, they would have been older than me by over two decades, so that match would have been improbable. After that, I didn't have too many people left. None were in New York."

Kate looked at the notebook, then back to him, then back to the notebook. "You made a list," she said factually.

He nodded his head, for as soon as he realized that a literal nail had been put in the coffin that once represented his future, he saw no other way. "I wanted to know who she was—I thought I needed that to…to, I don't know, just to move on, but I never found her and for over a decade I've wondered. Until now, because just five minutes ago I had a different thought: what if she didn't die? What if her Timer died instead?"

If Kate had figured out where Castle was going with his speech, she didn't let on until that moment when she jumped back from him as though he'd prodded her with an electrical charge. "Castle…"

Feeling equal parts amazed and helpless, he shrugged and tossed the notebook back on this desk. "I'm just asking the question. Do you think that it's—where are you going?" he asked when she spun on the spot and practically sprinted out of the room. He was so surprised that it took a few moments for him to follow her, and when he did he found that she was standing by the front door pulling on her boots.

"Wha—Kate—what are you? We don't have to keep—Kate! It's the middle of the night—Kate!" He called after her, his voice growing increasingly more frantic as she disappeared out the door and slammed it behind him. Dumbfounded, he stood in the middle of his apartment for almost five minutes half expecting the door to reopen, but when it never did, he ran his hand back through his hair and cursed.

"Shit…"

He was an _idiot_. Realistically, how had he expected Kate to react? Kate—the woman who guarded her heart more than anyone. And there he was, spewing out the fact that they could be—that maybe they were—

Shit, he didn't even know anymore. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was hallucinating.

But maybe, just maybe, he was right.

* * *

"Castle…Castle…"

The writer startled awake when he felt someone shaking his shoulder. He jumped, opened his eyes and gasped, "Wha—what's…wha…" Then, when his eyes focused, they fell on the face of his partner and for one brief second he thought to himself that he had never seen anything more beautiful. Then, as the events of a few hours earlier returned to the forefront of his mind, he sat up from where he had slumped over on the couch and blurted out, "Kate! Where—what—when—"

With a smile, she handed over a take-away cup of coffee and said, "Here; I brought you the good stuff."

"T-thanks," he said before taking a sip in an attempt to force himself awake. He glanced over at the clock on the wall and saw it was barely seven a.m. meaning she had been gone for a few hours, and he had been asleep for maybe three quarters of that time. He wasn't sure exactly what time he had passed out waiting for her to return to the apartment. The more time went by, the worse he felt, and he knew the very first thing he needed to do was apologize to her.

Scooting forward on the couch, he spoke softly. "Listen, Kate, I'm really sorry for how I upset you before. I was just...you know, being my overzealous self. I was just on a roll—a brainwave—and I never realized just how much…what's this?" He asked when she produced a small notebook from the pocket of her sweatshirt and held it up in front of him.

"One of my old journals."

Castle immediately felt a jolt of electricity travel down his spine. "A diary!?" he gasped with an enthusiasm level equivalent to a child on Christmas morning.

"No," she corrected firmly. "Not a diary; a journal."

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," he replied with a simple shrug.

Kate bit down on her bottom lip and then sat on the coffee table facing him. Their knees practically bumped together in the tight position, though neither seemed to mind. "Are you going to tease me or listen to what I have to say?"

Castle placed his coffee cup on a coaster and then folded his hands in his lap as he faced her, as attentive as a pupil on the first day of school. "Sorry. Please continue."

Kate feathered the edges of the notebook with the edge of her right thumb for several moments before placing her hands flat atop the book and looking him in the eye. "I don't want to… I've never been the best at sharing my feelings—being open about them, I mean, but I'd like to start changing that. It won't be easy for me—actually, I'm sure it'll be really hard, but I do want to try, so with that in mind I won't lie to you about what happened earlier this morning."

She took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for the confession she was about to make. "The truth is: I did completely freak out at the prospect of being matched with you—at the prospect of being matched with anyone, especially with my Timer gone. I felt like I couldn't breathe, so I ran out, intending to pace around the lobby and just sort of get my bearings, and I did, but that's when I remembered this." She held up the book with a little smile. "I went to my father's place to get it; thank god I had a box of my old things there or I wouldn't have had it at all. I wasn't even sure I kept it, but I did."

Now both figuratively and literally on the edge of his seat, Castle asked, "Are you going to let me read it?"

He response was immediate. "Absolutely not. But I am going to show you something." She leafed through the book before finding a specific page. Once there, she folded the spine of the notebook back so he could read that specific journal entry only. Then, she handed the book out to him.

Castle took it and his eyes had only scanned the top two lines of the entry when he commended, "Wow. That's a lot of "F" words," since there had been at least six in that short amount of text.

"I was angry."

Castle merely hummed in response as he continued to read the entry. Fortunately, he did not have to get very far until he spotted the passage she clearly intended for him to read. "Timer removed…" he said aloud, then his eyes shifted back to the top line of the page where the date was scribbled. "April twenty-eighth."

Kate tapped her index finger onto the page he read. "It says I had it removed the week before. That could be the twenty-third." She let that revelation hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "You know me…I want facts—evidence. We'll never get anything exact, but I'd say this is pretty damn close."

Castle stared at her blankly for the better part of a full minute. Though he heard her words and quite literally held the evidence in his hand, he could not quite believe it, because somehow a miracle was taking place in his living room. Kate was…she wasn't upset about potentially being his soulmate. Not only was she not upset, but she had gone out of her way _in the middle of the night_ to try and prove that they were, in fact, potential mates. This was…extraordinary!

Castle took an extra moment to thank the universe for being so kind to him. Then, fighting with every ounce of his strength to keep from leaping up off the couch, he very seriously placed the journal on the sofa beside him, tilted his head to the side, and asked, "Why Kate Beckett…. are you saying you want to be my soulmate?"

Her cheeks instantly turned two different shades of pink. Clearly flustered, she began to stammer, "Ah, um, no—not soulmate. And I'm just…" She huffed out a breath and threw her hands up a bit helplessly. "Well, I've always felt so bad about the fact that your mate was dead. I never really bought into all this whole Timer match thing—not when I really thought about it—but I thought on the off chance it was real, then it was very sad because you're such a good man and you—"

Unable to help himself, Castle launched himself forward, placed his hands on Kate's cheeks, and kissed her lips. Unsurprisingly, she jumped back and called out his name scolding, but honestly he didn't much care; the grin was still plastered on his face as he gazed at her.

"You want to be my Timer-mate."

She made a small squeaking noise. "I…I'm just saying it's a possibility."

Castle needed no further confirmation. Oh, how far they had come in the prior few hours—and he could not have been more thrilled about it!

With a bit more caution, he leaned his face into hers and when she didn't move away, he kissed her again. Their lips met and, god, it was perfect—just as he always hoped it would be. More so, even, now that he knew there was a _very_ high likelihood that they were, in fact, mean to be together.

As their lips met again and again, Kate moved her hands to Castle's cheeks while his bracketed her waist, pulling her body closer to his. When she let out a soft mew of contentment, he felt the urge to pull her into him and flip her onto the couch beside him, which was how he knew they needed to take a breather and perhaps come up with a more logical plan for moving forward.

Resting his forehead against hers, Castle hummed out her name, loving how it felt rumbling in his throat with her that close to him. "Kate?"

"Yes?"

"Will you have dinner with me?"

"That would be…okay…"

Despite her words he did not hear hesitation; she was clearly teasing him, so he pulled back to examine her face. "Okay?" he echoed and then he watched the sliest, sexiest smile he'd ever seen cross her face. Instantly, he knew there was no way they could make it to dinner.

"Yes, I-oh! What are you doing?" She gasped the moment he'd pulled her up off the coffee table and slipped one arm beneath her legs.

He had taken three steps towards the bedroom when he said, "It's seven a.m., we have twelve hours until dinner. Gotta do something."

"No, Castle." She gripped his shoulders firmly and shook her head. "Too soon; it's too soon."

He grumbled and pouted for a moment, but her stern expression reminded him that perhaps he was being a tad overzealous. He could make it to dinner—even if that was half a day away! Sighing with a bit of drama, he released her legs and let her slide back down to the floor. "Okay. That's fair. I'm just excited."

Skimming her teeth over her bottom lip she confessed, "Yeah…I guess I am too."

He skimmed his hands over her hips as he pointed out, "Well you did run out of here at two a.m. to confirm we were soulmates so…"

"Not soulmates," she reminded sharply.

He leaned in, wiggled his eyebrows at her and said, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

 **A/N** : thank you to the guest who prompted this - hope it lived up to your expectation!

the prompt was: After her mother's death, Kate has her Timer removed. Castle's own Timer changes from a countdown to dashes, meaning that his mate has had their Timer removed, or has died, or his Timer has malfunctioned. At some point (post FFYG and maybe around Boom, while she's staying at the loft) he notices the marks on her wrist where her Timer used to be and for the first time begins to suspect that she may be his Timer-mate and has to find a way to bring the subject up

Thanks for reading!


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